


She Who Must Be Obeyed

by Not_You



Series: She Who Must Be Obeyed (And Other Stuff) [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - Mundane, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anger Management, Artist Steve Rogers, BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Bi-Curiosity, Breathplay, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bucky isn't sure how gay he is and that's the part that really bothers him, Cages, Caning, Cat Tony, Choking, Cock sleeve, Come Marking, Comeplay, Couch Sex, Crossdressing Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Drunk Tony Stark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/F, F/M, Face Slapping, Face-Sitting, Female Ejaculation, Femdom, Feminization, First Time Bottoming, Food, Foot Massage, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Gangbang, Gay For You, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Hand Feeding, Human Furniture, Hurt/Comfort, Incest Play, Leashes, Lingerie, Loki Has Issues, Love Confessions, M/M, Manicures & Pedicures, Massage, Master/Pet, Masturbation in Shower, Memories, Mental Health Issues, Misogyny, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Natasha Owns Everyone, Nick Fury Knows All, Nursing Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pampering, Past Child Abuse, Penis Size, Pepper likes to help other girls be pretty, Pet Play, Pets, Pining, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn Watching, Portraits, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Public Scene, Punishment, Puppy Play, Recreational Drug Use, Relationship Negotiation, Rimming, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Size Kink, Strap-Ons, Unexpected Feels, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Vaginal Fisting, Vibrators, Voyeurism, art is a kink, house meeting, it's just a costume but tony is just such a kitty, kitten play, natasha owns the ones that were fun to make, not in a porn-shaming way, skinny steve fetish, steve walks a dog for an old lady because he is steve, the people in the scene just hated it, totally unsexy gonzo porn bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 122
Words: 121,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, a friend and I were talking about how annoying the heavy default to male dom/female sub in discussions of BDSM can get, and I said, "To hell with it, I'm writing something where Natasha owns <i>everyone</i>."</p><p>So, Natasha has her harem of male subs (and Pepper, her precious girlpet) but there's always room for Jello.  And Steve.  And Bucky.  And Loki.  And Jane.  And Darcy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One Where Steve Meets Natasha

**Author's Note:**

> (This is basically an excuse for femdom porn with a little romance plot to move it along and add feels, so if there is anything you would like to see in this, please comment and I'll see what I can do.)
> 
> Addendum: This story has a set alternating POV scheme where Steve gets a full half of the chapters. If there's sex he's not involved in or where his POV doesn't interest me, I'll go back and get it in the next chapter, putting things out of chronological order. This fic has so much porn that it bends time.

Like a lot of things in Steve’s life, it’s all Bucky’s fault. Bucky is the one who tells him that his portraits aren’t going to get any better until he draws more interesting people. When Steve protests that old Mrs. Crown down at the post office and the neighbor kids _are_ interesting, Bucky just snorts. 

“I mean wholesome, Steve! Seriously, didn’t like, every great artist draw whores at some point? Or take photos, like that, that Bellocq guy?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know most of ‘em did that because of a shortage of actual nude models.” 

“Not Bellocq.” 

“No, but he was a photographer, anyway. He was documenting a disappearing world.” 

“You talk so purty when you get goin’ about art.” 

Steve sticks his tongue out at Bucky. “The point is, a lot of the societal constraints those guys were working under no longer apply, so there.” 

“True, but maybe we’re overlooking another major factor.” He grins at Steve, bright and obnoxious. “Hookers used to be pretty cheap, and they were all broke losers like you.” 

“It takes one to know one, pal, and you know ‘em all!” Steve dives for Bucky, tackling him onto the couch and then the floor in one of their wrestling matches, the ones Bucky almost always lets him win. 

Steve doesn’t forget the suggestion, though, and It simmers and ferments in his mind, until he finds himself in a totally unfamiliar part of the city on Halloween night, sketchpad in hand. Steve has always liked Halloween, since it presents an opportunity both to create art and to temporarily be someone else. Bucky has to work tonight because his boss is an asshole, but the people-watching on this random pilgrimage is almost worth it. 

He even makes a little money doing quick sketches; three drunk sorority girls dressed as sexy nurses, an old gay couple kitted out in full old-school leather daddy gear, and several others. People are passing bottles and other things, and a girl wearing just enough fluffy white feathers not to get arrested grabs him and gives him a kiss that tastes like tequila and makes him blush. 

He’s thinking of heading home when he sees her. One of the most beautiful women he has ever seen, dressed as a sexy cop. The costume is much less revealing and more quietly menacing than most interpretations available, and is detailed enough to include a K-9 badge. She’s slight and voluptuous at the same time, her hair bright red under her cap. After the first glance, Steve realizes that her partner is also beautiful, a mesh shirt and leather pants highlighting the kind of muscles that Steve wants to touch. The rest of his costume consists of a dog collar and a leash, as well as dog ears and a matching tail. More than their beauty, Steve is drawn to the way they look together, the woman holding the leash with casual mastery, the man alert and adoring at her side. 

Steve runs across the street after them when the light changes, catching up with them on the corner. Running makes him wheeze and he’s afraid of an asthma attack, but he manages to get enough breath to gasp, “Excuse me!” They stop, turning to look at him. 

“Yes?” She says. 

“I was just wondering,” Steve gasps, “if I could draw you.” He stops, realizing how that sounds, and adds, “Both of you, I mean.” 

The man grins. “I dunno, are you any good?” 

Steve can't help but bristle at this, but he just opens his folder to show the few finished drawings in it. Most of tonight’s have been sold or given away to their subjects, but there’s a quick, impressionistic rendering of a particularly fabulous drag queen, and a much more detailed one of a group of Star Wars characters who had insisted he keep it after Leia had scanned it with her phone for posterity. The dog man examines both of these, and smiles. 

“Damn, these are good. Check it out, Tasha.” He passes them to the woman, who manages the folder easily with one hand, the other still on the leash. 

"You're right, they are." She looks at Steve and smiles, and suddenly his breathlessness has a lot less to do with running. “We’re already late for a party, though.” 

“We could take him with us,” the man points out. 

“I suppose. Would you like to?” She asks Steve. 

“Uh, sure? If it wouldn’t be any trouble.” 

“No trouble at all, as long as you’re cool.” 

“…I don’t do drugs.” 

The man laughs, and Tasha smiles. “There will be drinks and a smoking room, but nothing stronger. It is, however, a party full of leatherfolk.” 

“Um.” Steve squeaks. 

“Not an orgy, man, just a party where we all know each other _from_ orgies,” the man assures him. “Or, y’know. Bondage workshops. Knitting circles. Come on, it’ll be fun!” 

Steve has to laugh. “Well, I don’t know much about bondage workshops, but I do know how to knit.” 

As they walk, his new companions fill him in. That their hostess loves Halloween and has money to blow on throwing a huge bash every year. It’s mostly for people of a similar sexual bent to Natasha and Clint, but is really just a Halloween party. 

“Sure,” Clint says, “sometimes someone will get paddled or there will be some other game, but nothing extreme, nothing crazy. Scout’s honor.” 

“It’s a free country,” Steve says, “if I don’t like it I can always leave.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Natasha says, sounding amused. 

The house is a tall old brownstone, and looks gloomy and gothic and amazing tonight. Steve has to stop for a moment and just appreciate the architecture. Clint grins at him. 

“Pretty great, huh?” 

“I’ll say.” 

“Come on, you two,” Natasha says, and Steve is a little embarrassed at how obediently he falls into step.


	2. The One Where Where Bruce Is In His Cage

“What time is it?” Bruce murmurs, breaking a long silence.

Thor yawns and checks his phone. “Not midnight yet.”

Bruce sighs, slumping onto the floor of his cage. “Will I ever be good, Thor?”

“You’re good now, you just behave badly sometimes. Come on, let’s play chess again.”

“Okay.” He watches as Thor gets up and fetches the set, arranging it on the floor beside the cage. Thor gives him the black pieces because Bruce likes them better, and lets him make the first move because Bruce likes to start and has been having a bad day. He used to hurt himself when he felt like this, but now his lady controls him. He’ll be in this cage until the day turns over at midnight, and then Thor will let him out, and he’ll have another chance to be good, everything forgiven. He and Thor are alone in the house. Nick has to work, Clint is going to Emma’s Halloween party with Natasha, and Pepper and Tony are at Rhodey’s. Kids have periodically showed up trick-or-treating, and each time Thor switches on the baby monitor and goes upstairs to dole out suckers and mini candy bars and all the various other choices in their massive candy bowl. 

Clint will eat anything that’s left, and Bruce smiles at the thought. He hates parties and wouldn’t have been going out tonight anyway, but there’s some lab work he could be doing, and he likes giving out candy. He looks at the scars on his forearms and smiles sadly, weathering another wave of shame and regret and misery. It’s hard sometimes, but his lady believes in him, and so do the rest of her boys. That sense of belonging has pulled Bruce back from a lot of edges, and he shivers to think where he would be without his family.

“All right?” Thor asks, coming back down the stairs.

“Just thinking about how not all right I would be without you guys.”

“And we would be miserable without you,” Thor says softly, kneeling beside the cage and kissing Bruce through the bars. Anything more overtly sexual isn’t allowed until Bruce is no longer being punished, but kissing and hand-holding are always allowed in Natasha’s house, because her boys are always loved. Bruce sighs and leans into the kiss, feeling wrung out and fragile the way he always does for hours after a fit. He needs to be in his cage for being so bad, but he’ll be very glad to get out. Thor smiles at him as though he knows what Bruce is thinking. “Only an hour now. You’ve been doing so well.”

“Thank you,” Bruce whispers, and reaches over to the chessboard, making his move. He usually wins against everybody in the house except for Tony and Thor, but tonight he prevails. Thor smiles, tipping over his own king.

“Well played.” 

Bruce is too bored of chess right now for another game, and ends up sitting quietly for the last forty-five minutes of his confinement, watching an episode of _Wandering Star_ and wondering how many other baby perverts had felt the same flutter in their bellies as he had the first time he had seen the princess interrogate someone. Thor wanders in and out, and comes back as the timer goes off and the ending credits play.

“There you are, Bruce. You’ve been good this whole time, and are allowed out of your cage now.”

Bruce chuckles, crawling out when Thor unlocks the door. He stands slowly, and then stretches and cracks his back. “Ugh.”

Thor smiles, and hugs him tightly. “No one is angry with you, Bruce. Do you want to be left alone, or to join me at the door?”

Bruce does not want to be left alone, and sticks close to Thor for the rest of the evening, pressed right against his side and covering him with kisses when older kids and younger adults aren’t ringing the bell. Their neighborhood tends to run late as a general rule, and tonight they don’t stop handing out candy until three a.m. Bruce eats some of it between whiles, flavoring their kisses with milk chocolate and artificial fruit. As the quiet stretches out, most of the denizens of the street headed for home, Bruce finally starts to truly relax. Clint and Natasha will be home soon, and Natasha will kiss him and praise him and he’ll be able to sleep everything off in good company.

This relaxing vision is shattered by Natasha and Clint arriving home with an unknown third party. He’s a little guy, hanging between them and looking faintly green. Thor blinks, and moves forward to help instead of dropping to his knees to greet Natasha as they usually do. “Who’s this?” Thor asks, even as he bundles the guy up into his arms.

“His name is Steve, we ran into him and took him along to Emma’s party,” Clint explains. “He just said he doesn’t drink, but it turns out he’s on a lot of medications, and he accidentally got a slug of one of Emma’s G&Ts. You know how strong she makes them. He’s gonna be okay, but he can’t make it home like this.”

Thor nods, and carries Steve to the least-used of the bedrooms and gets him comfortably shoe-less and un-suspendered before tucking him in. Bruce hangs back, feeling raw and vulnerable, but Natasha comes to him and wraps her arms around his neck.

“I’m glad to see you calmer.”

“I’m sorry, mistress,” he mutters, reflexively hugging her.

“I know. You’re my good boy, and no one is angry with you.” She kisses him and he whimpers, feeling happy and grounded when she orders him to the floor and tells him to crawl to the bedroom and wait. _The_ bedroom is hers, of course. All others are specified.


	3. The One At The Halloween Party

The entryway is dark and blacklit and hung in fake cobwebs. A girl in a corset, spider jewelry, and not much else is watching the door, and she beams at the sight of them. “Natasha! And what a cute puppy! Who’s your friend?”

Clint lets out a quiet, friendly bark, and Natasha smiles. “The cutest puppy. And this adorable boy is Steve. He is here for completely vanilla reasons, and would like a white ribbon to keep him safe from all these degenerates.”

The girl laughs, rummaging around in a box and pulling out a length of white ribbon. “Give me whichever hand you don’t write with.”

Steve holds his left out, and she carefully knots the ribbon around his wrist. “There. This shows people that you either aren’t here to do anything kinky, or are such a complete novice that they need to explain things carefully.” Steve nods. “If anyone persists in something you don’t like, just holler ‘safeword’ and someone will come rescue you.” She chuckles. “If Natasha doesn’t gut them first. Enjoy!” She waves them on, and they wander into the strange, small, high-ceilinged rooms. The whole place is dark, with odd lights in odd colors, and rubber bats and spiders hanging among the cotton cobwebs. Steve’s eyes adjust, and he blushes to see what their fellow guests are wearing (or not.) Clint chuckles, and pats his shoulder.

“You’ll get used to it. Want a drink?”

Steve doesn’t drink, due to his various medications, but Clint and Natasha don’t roll their eyes when he says so or demand a reason. Clint just goes and gets three cups. Two Tequila Sunrises for himself and Natasha, and an unopened can of Sprite and some ice for Steve. He thanks Clint, who holds his sketchpad while Steve pours his soda and pitches the can into a bin of its fellows.

“Thanks,” he says, taking his property back.

“Of course,” Clint says, and gently tugs Steve along with Natasha and himself as they make a circuit of the room, greeting what seem to be old friends. There are other puppies, kittens, and an adorable girl in blue feathers, as well as other cops, angels, devils, and Wonder Woman. Steve loses track of all the names, but everyone seems nice, and eventually he ends up in a quiet little alcove, sketching Clint and Natasha as she has him sit, beg, shake, roll over, play dead, and dramatically return to life and kiss her hand. She commands him with gestures, and Steve wishes he could capture the exact way she holds her delicate and powerful hands.

“Who’s this?” A deep voice purrs, and Steve jumps, broken out of his reverie. He looks up and keeps looking up until the reaches the face of the tall and elegant man addressing him.

“His name is Steve and he’s not actually mine, T’Challa.”

“Hi,” Steve says. “I just met these two a minute ago, but I had to draw them.”

“Yes,” T’Challa says, smiling softly. “I can see why.”

Steve ends up drawing him as well as several others, fascinated as always by all the sizes and shapes and colors humans come in. He tries to capture some fraction of the beauty he sees, sipping Sprite and drawing a boy’s cellophane fairy wings and his trusting face as he gazes up at his master, and the impish joy on a woman’s face as she steals a barrette from one of her two mistresses’ hair, fully in-character with her monkey suit.

Steve doesn’t know much about this kind of thing, but everyone here seems all right. There’s a certain obviousness to how the couples and other conglomerations care for each other that’s really endearing. He’s pretty sure some real debauchery is going on upstairs, but the party down here is just good clean fun. There’s a horror movie projected on the bare wall of the back office, people telling ghost stories in the basement, and drinking and dancing flowing around Steve. Natasha comes and goes according to her whim after a while, stopping by to look at the pile of sketches Steve is generating, and Clint keeps his drink filled, helps him find the bathroom, and introduces him to their hostess when they run into her near the canapés.

Her name is Emma Frost, and she is delighted to meet Steve and answer his questions. She seems like a bit of a man-eater and her outfit leaves him with nowhere safe to look, but she tells him a lot of interesting things, and flirts with him and makes him blush until a boy wearing cat ears, a matching tail, and not much else comes crawling up and gives her a sad look with a pair of big blue eyes that make Steve understand why people sometimes go on about his.

“Darling, don’t be jealous,” Emma says, and crouches to kiss him and stroke his hair and his upper back for a moment before standing up again. “My kitten sometimes forgets just how much I adore him.”

“I can see how much you do. May I draw you together?”

Like most consciously beautiful women, Emma is glad to pose. The kitten’s name turns out to be Hank, and he cuddles up next to her, looking a bit embarrassed but very happy. The drawing turns out so well that Steve gives it to them, and everything is sociable and lovely until he’s dumb enough to grab the wrong drink. There are a lot of cups on the table, and Sprite and a gin and tonic look pretty much the same. He’s thirsty and takes a huge slug of it, too, melted ice cubes hiding the first sting of the booze until it’s too late.

“…I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, and sets the cup down very carefully.


	4. The One Where Natasha Canes Bruce

Clint joins Bruce once he’s sure Steve will be all right, getting out of his costume and climbing into bed with Bruce. “You feelin’ better, monster?” Bruce has called himself that for so long that they’ve given up on making him stop, and are working on making him understand that he’s their sweet cuddlemonster more often than their ferocious ragemonster.

“Yeah. I just… you know, you get way too angry over some damn stupid thing, then you do things that make you ashamed of yourself, and then you even angrier because you’re still angry about whatever upset you and now you’re angry with yourself. And it just keeps going.”

“Sounds fucking exhausting.”

“And not just for me,” Bruce says, sighing.

“Hey, does Natasha need to slap you around a little for you to feel right?” Clint would help, and is willing to play rough with any of the boys, but when Bruce is having a bad day it can make him feel worse.

“I think so.”

“Want me to stay and take care of you?”

“Please.” He sighs, pulling Clint closer and nuzzling his hair. They stay like that until Natasha comes back from checking on Steve with Thor in tow.

“How’s my monster?” She coos, and Bruce blushes.

“Better, mistress.”

“He says he needs another punishment,” Clint adds, because it takes Bruce forever to ask for things.

“Is that true, monster? Do you need me to hurt you?”

He shudders all over. “Yes, mistress. Please.”

“I always give my pets what they need,” Natasha says, and all three of them whimper because of how true that is. She has Thor pull up the big armchair she favors for voyeurism, and settles into it to watch Thor and Clint get out of the rest of their clothes, Bruce’s already neatly folded and set aside. “Such beautiful boys,” she says when Thor and Clint have put their clothes with Bruce’s, and Thor grins and Clint blushes a bit. He never knows what to do when Natasha calls him beautiful, Bruce has an even worse case. He hides behind Thor just a bit, and Natasha smiles. “None of that, my pretty little monster,” she says. “Boys, put Bruce in place for me.”

“The usual way?” Clint asks, holding Bruce as Thor goes to get the cuffs.

“Please,” Natasha says, and waits for them to get Bruce on his knees at the foot of the bed, his hands cuffed together in front of him, and then bound to the top bar.

“He asked me to stay for him,” Clint says, and Bruce nods, flushing.

“I… I want Thor, too,” Bruce says, voice catching a bit. “I know I don’t deserve…”

“No,” Natasha says, voice sharp and decided. “You don’t get to decide what you deserve, because you’re mine.” She stands, and goes to the closet. “I don’t even really think you deserve this, but it will be fun for me, and make you feel better.” She pulls out one of the real rattan canes that she favors, and Bruce whines and cringes a little as Natasha gets that predatory smile of hers. “Yes, you know what’s coming,” Natasha says, walking over to him. “On your feet, monster.”

Bruce struggles to his feet, knees trembling. He always gets a little panicked before Natasha hurts him, even when it’s his idea. Clint sits on the foot of the bed and kisses Bruce, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to do this,” he reminds him, Thor coming from the other side to rub Bruce’s back and kiss his cheek. “Whatever you decide, we love you.”

“I know,” Bruce says, calmer now. “Please, mistress,” he says to Natasha, and she nods, adjusting her grip on the cane.

“You get half a dozen, my sweet little monster. I’d say all would be forgiven after that, but I already forgive you. Ready?”

“Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress.”

“I always give my pets what they need,” Natasha croons, and then there’s that devastating swish and crack, and Bruce yelps, high and pained. Clint yanks Bruce’s hair and kisses him hard as he shivers and sinks into the pain. “One,” Natasha says, and then, “two,” after another sharp impact. Bruce whimpers, and his eyes fill with tears.

“Clint,” he whimpers, breathy and desperate, and Clint hushes him, pushing two fingers into his mouth. Bruce whines softly, sucking them and muffling his cries as Natasha gives him the rest of the strokes, each one making him buck and sob. Thor kisses him and whispers in his ear that he’s being so good, and taking it so well for their mistress, and Bruce lets out a high, quavering noise as Clint slips his fingers free on the sixth hit.

Natasha sighs, handing the cane to Thor and leaning over Bruce’s back, breasts pressed to his unmarked skin and making him whine again. “You are the best monster in the world. My pet monster, my sweet boy who tries so hard to be good for me.” She nuzzles the spot where the nape of his neck becomes his upper back, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him as he shivers and pants. “Such a brave boy,” she coos, and drops to her knees to press kisses to the welts on his ass, which makes him tear up again and look so pathetically vulnerable that Clint has to tug his head back and kiss him again.

All of them are hard, of course, but it’s late. Clint and Natasha stay with Bruce and gentle him until Thor comes back with salve and a bandage, more to keep the salve off the sheets than because Bruce needs it. They get him comfortably wrapped up, and then just cuddle together in a pile around Natasha, availing themselves of whoever’s hand is the closest, a warm and companionable tangle that’s willing to leave the sticky tissues on the floor until morning.


	5. The One Where Steve Wakes Up At Natasha's House (Very Confused)

Steve wakes up very confused. He’s fully clothed, which is good, and feels uninjured, which is even better. The bed is comfortable, and made up with red sheets and pillowcases. The curtains are drawn so he isn’t being blasted by the noonday sun outside, and when he sits up and looks around, he sees that the room is small and clean, and while pleasant, doesn’t have much personality. Probably a guest room. He rubs at his eyes and tries to remember what he was doing last night and why he’s anywhere but home. Oh. Natasha, Clint, the party, that damn drink, and then just some blurry stuff. He groans, humiliated the way he is every time his physical limitations screw him over in front of everyone, and gets up to go find and thank his hosts. Padding into the hall (and he’s going to have to ask someone where his shoes are) he gets the sense that this is a large house, and he hears voices and cutlery somewhere up ahead. His stomach growls, and he follows the promise of food to the large, sunny kitchen.

There are a lot of people in the kitchen, and Steve stops in the doorway, surprised. There’s an older and very imposing black guy frying eggs while wearing an actual leather trenchcoat and an eyepatch with radiating scars coming out from under it, and Natasha and Clint are sitting at the table with an enormous blonde guy, a small (but still bigger than Steve, of course) dark-haired guy with a beard, and a slender and elegant looking woman with strawberry blonde hair. Another man is standing close by, leaning against the counter and eating what appears to be a bowl of oatmeal, his glasses slightly fogged up by the steam.

“Who wanted sunny-side up?” The man at the stove asks, and the blonde hops up, taking Clint’s plate as well and going to collect their eggs.

“Over medium for the rest of us, Nick,” Natasha says, and then smiles when she sees Steve. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Are you feeling all right?”

“Pretty well, thanks. Sorry to have been a bother.” He wants to draw Natasha again the way she is now, with fluffy new-washed hair and a plush white bathrobe wrapped around her. Clint grins, wearing a tattered t-shirt and jeans in even worse repair.

“We were afraid we were gonna have to call a doctor, but Bruce said it would be safe for you to sleep it off. It’s a good thing you’ve got that MedicAlert bracelet, though.”

“Bruce?”

“I’m almost a medical doctor,” the man with the oatmeal says.

Steve smiles. “Well, glad for the assist, anyway. I can’t afford another ER visit.”

“Breakfast?” The other woman offers, gesturing to the table, which is full of fruit and toast and bacon. 

Steve’s stomach growls, and he blushes. “Guess I’d better, thanks.” He finds a seat and takes some of everything, nibbling away at it as Nick demands an egg order from him. “Um, over easy, please,” Steve says, and Nick nods, producing a perfect egg. Steve thanks him and has cleaned his plate and been introduced to everyone before he suddenly jumps up. “Omigod, Bucky! Does anyone know where my phone is?”

“I put it in your shoe,” Thor says, “but here, borrow mine.”

“Thanks.” Steve takes it and punches in Bucky’s number. The poor guy must have come home to the empty apartment last night and is almost certainly panicking by now. 

Steve’s suppositions are borne out when Bucky answers, sounding strained and cracked. “Yeah?”

“Bucky! I’m safe, I’m sorry I couldn’t call you last night.” 

Bucky lets out a high, quivering sigh, and Steve hears a muffled thump, like his friend has sat down heavily on the floor. “Oh, thank fucking god,” he says at last, and it sounds like he’s crying. “Steve, where the hell have you _been_? I’ve called up every goddamn hospital, jail, and fuckin’ dog pound looking for you!”

“Bucky, I’m so sorry. I went out sketching and met some people and followed them to a party where I got a slug of gin by accident.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, it put me right out. They took me along and let me sleep it off in their guest bedroom, and they fed me breakfast before I remembered that you had no idea where I was.”

“Ugh, I haven’t been able to eat. You’re sure you’re okay, then?”

“If they wanted to murder me they’ve had hours.”

“Jesus, don’t say shit like that. What’s the address?”

“Bucky, I’m a grown man, I can take a cab.”

“Steve, just tell me the goddamn address.”

“Hang on, lemme ask.” He questions his hosts and relays the information to Bucky when he has it. “Oh, and I have my phone, it just wasn’t close to me, so call me when you get here.”

“Sure, Steve. You just stay right there, okay?”

“Sure thing, Bucky. I’ll be here.” He hangs up, feeling better and worse at the same time.

“Boyfriend?” Tony asks, his expression all sympathy.

Steve blushes, because Bucky is gorgeous and all, but it’s not like that. “No. My roommate. We’ve known each other forever, though. He looks out for me.”

“Ah. Think he wants any breakfast?”

“Bucky can’t keep anything down when he gets real worked up. I think the kindest thing I can do is just get out there when he calls.” He hands the phone back to Thor. “Thank you. Thank all of you, for everything.” He runs back to the guest room, wheezes a bit, and gathers his things, pleased to see his portfolio intact. He pulls out the best sketches of Natasha and Clint, and puts them on the table when he makes his way back to the kitchen.

“Oh, wow,” Tony says, eyes alight. “Those are good.”

“I told you,” Natasha says, and Steve blushes again.

“I’d actually like to do some more, but…”

“But what? Give me your phone.” Steve hands it over, and watches her enter herself into his contacts. “There,” she says, handing it back. “Call me up and we’ll work something out. With no booze and without traumatizing your friend.”

Steve grins sheepishly. “Thanks, Natasha.”


	6. The One That Accounts For Tony And Pepper On Halloween

Pepper is DDing, because Tony is a lush and because Pepper is the best. It’s nice to get out to a party that _isn’t_ full of their fellow kinky bastards once in a while. Especially on Halloween, when everyone who knows about him can tell _exactly_ what a cat costume means on him. At Rhodey’s party he can say things over everyone else’s head to tease Pepper or horrify Rhodey, and people don’t get all ‘I need to know your safeword’ on him when comes up and bats at them to be cute. But now the party is over, and he’s pretty drunk and he’s kissing Rhodey goodbye and Rhodey is letting him because Rhodey is the best straight boy. 

“You’re the best straight boy,” Tony tells him, and Rhodey rolls his eyes, hugging Tony tightly.

“Pepper, take this menace home.”

“On it,” Pepper assures him, and puts her nice warm Pepper-smelling arms around Tony, herding him out to the car and pouring him into the shotgun seat.

“I love you lots,” Tony tells her, because he does.

“I love you too,” Pepper coos, and he thinks for the millionth time that Pepper would be a great mother, as she gets his stupid drunk ass strapped in and comfortable. “Here, hold this.”

“I’m a helper,” Tony lilts, settling her witch hat on his lap, and Pepper laughs.

“Yes, kitten. You are.” She drives them home with the same careful precision she always does, and Tony watches through half-shuttered eyes. He’s not drunk enough to actually need help up the steps and into the house, but Pepper stays close and he leans into her a little because she’s there. She nuzzles his hair, and opens the door for him. They’re expecting some activity, since Emma’s parties go pretty late and Bruce can never sleep when he’s being punished, but they’re not expecting company. Natasha and Clint have picked up some kind of tiny stray boy, and have left a note on the kitchen counter to inform Tony and Pepper that they’re upstairs with Thor and Bruce, and that Steve is in the guest room and they should check on him before they go to bed. 

Steve has a pretty face, but Tony can’t shake the feeling that he’d break if someone breathed on him too hard. He’s also out like a light. Apparently the poor little bastard is on a slew of medications and just an accidental swill of Emma’s drink put him out. He doesn’t have any of the various bad signs that Bruce has taught them to watch for, though, so they make sure he’s on his side so he won’t choke if he throws up or anything, and then make their way to their room. It’s a huge, rambling old house, the kind of place that usually gets cut up for apartments. This one is complete, though, and has just the warren of bedrooms they need to be together and apart at the right times and in the right configurations. Tony dawdles his way through getting ready for bed, and once there curls up in a little ball of contentment, purring as Pepper wraps around him from behind.

He’s a little hungover the next morning, but it isn’t too bad. He gets some water, checks on Steve, and lies down again for a long time. The second time he opens his eyes, he feels better, and he can hear Pepper rustling around in the closet. “Pepper?”

“Nick got back a couple hours ago. He’s making breakfast.”

“I guess I shouldn’t torment him until after, huh?”

“It’s only polite.” Pepper smiles, pulling a simple shift over her head. Tony likes her poised and polished, but he likes her this way too, barefoot and tousled and soft. Finding the words to tell Pepper or anyone else that he loves this kind of thing is one of the few things Tony Stark can’t figure out how to do, so he just gets up and hugs her and gets in the way while she tries to brush her hair and blows a raspberry on the side of her neck because he loves the way she laughs.

Nick is at the stove when they come down to the kitchen, and Tony waits for a reasonably safe moment to hug him from behind. “Missed you, Grumpy Bear,” he coos, lightly nipping Nick’s ear. Nick just grumbles, but doesn’t push him off until he has to. Tony goes to the table and waits to be fed, since Clint has already done all of the prepwork and Thor has set out the dishes, utensils, and condiments. The three of them are quite a team when it comes to putting out a good spread, and Tony grins as Thor hops up again to go fetch the agave nectar, because Bruce and Nick both like it better than honey. It’s awesome that the gang’s all here. Nick has been gone for a while, and even though Tony and Thor can keep the whole harem between them, Pepper is one of those people who really needs a career, so it’s been while since their last real family breakfast.

“Oh hey, how’s Steve?” He asks, remembering that they have company.

“I checked him on my way in,” Nick says. “Still asleep.”

“Seems like somebody ought to wake him up if it doesn’t happen pretty soon,” Tony says, and there’s a general murmur of assent with the qualification that it can wait until after their eggs. Tony is in favor of the plan, and in the end Steve wanders in just as the first few are coming out of the pan, anyway.


	7. The One Where Steve Pines For Bucky And Walks A Dog

Steve likes this neighborhood. The houses are big and old and beautiful, but it’s quiet and a little scruffy, with none of that manicured luxury that makes his skin crawl in the really rich neighborhoods he has seen. He wonders about Natasha and her… friends? Family? He has no idea what kind of web of relationships exists in that house, but knows that being tangled in it for a few minutes had been warm, and sweet. He already knows he wants to see them again when Bucky pulls up a moment later. He looks awful, all pale and ragged, and Steve jumps into the shotgun seat and hugs him. 

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose.” Bucky says, holding him tightly. It seems to take a lot for him to let go so Steve can buckle up before they drive off, but he does, and they do. They don’t talk much on the way home, and when they get there, Steve pours Bucky a glass of milk and makes him drink the entire thing and eat a sandwich before putting him to bed. He wants to just crawl in beside Bucky and hold him again, but that would be weird, so he settles for pulling a chair up to the bed and reading to him. Bucky smiles as he nuzzles his worn face into the pillow, and Steve’s heart flutters in a way that has nothing to do with any of his various goddamn conditions. He reminds himself for the thousandth time that Bucky is straight, and turns his mind to not stumbling over the long names of the various aliens in this sci-fi novel that still has the 50¢ sticker on the cover from the last time the library was clearing out its paperbacks. He goes on for a bit after Bucky’s breathing slows, and then sets the book aside and watches his friend for a long moment. When he’s sure he can get away with it, he strokes Bucky’s hair, loving the way it feels under his hand. He pulls away before it can get creepy, and tiptoes out, shutting the door and leaving Bucky to his much-needed nap.

Maybe it’s the product of his own long sleep, but Steve is restless. He cleans as much of the apartment as he can without making too much noise, and then leaves a note (it would be just like Bucky to wake up while he’s out and start freaking out again) and goes a few doors down to make a quick few bucks for walking Mrs. Henderson’s dog. Her hip is bothering her again, and Mr. Arbuthnot is delighted to see Steve, leaping as high as his stubby legs and advancing years will allow him and wagging his whole chunky body. Steve would walk him for the exercise and to help out, but Mrs. Henderson insists on at least giving him a dollar or three ‘for your trouble, Stevie,’ and it has made more of a difference than it should more than once, so he’s done fighting it. He takes the dog out and wanders for blocks, wondering for the thousandth time if he should just admit everything to Bucky, if that would help or just make everything more tense. 

Mr. Arbuthnot isn’t much help with this kind of problem, but it is a joy to watch him trot along, fascinated by everything around him. When asked what breed he is, Mrs. Henderson says that she’s not sure, but that he’s part pug, part poodle, and part miniature pig. Steve smiles at the thought, and takes the dog for a long wander, making sure he’s actually tired before taking him back. Mrs. Henderson invites him in for a cup of tea, but Steve declines, explaining about accidentally dosing himself last night and how worried Bucky has been.

She sighs. “Oh, honey. I did that with LSD back in the sixties. Poor Carl was afraid I’d lose my mind or something. Lucky for both of us, I just saw blue flowers on everything and thought really deeply about the meaning of sofas. You go on and let Bucky know you’re all right.”

“Thanks, ma’am. I will,” Steve says, and gives Mr. Arbuthnot a last pat before heading home. He’s pretty sure Mrs. Henderson thinks that he and Bucky are sleeping together, but he doesn't know how to tell her that they're not, because she never actually says it outright. When Steve gets home he finds the place silent, and sighs in relief, settling in on the couch to watch the telenovela he and Bucky sort of follow as best they can with an almost complete lack of Spanish vocabulary. The gay doctor has just revealed that he faked his own death last week _and_ that he’s sleeping with the mayor, and Steve really wants to know how the old lady is going to take it. She’s the mayor’s aunt or something, Steve can’t be sure.

“Hey,” Bucky croaks, wandering into the room and scratching his balls as he walks because he has no class, “Is that the doctor?”

“Yeah. I told you he didn’t really drown. Nobody’s dead until you see the body. Half the time, not even then.”

“Truly, I must bow to your wisdom.” Bucky yawns and comes to sit beside Steve, the two of them watching in companionable silence until the show starts following the innocent and boring male lead around. “So, I feel kinda bad about hustling you off like that.”

“It’s okay. They understood, and Natasha gave me her number.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, and Steve snorts.

“So I can draw her and her _boyfriend_. And their roommates, or whatever the others are.”

“How many?”

“Well,” Steve says, counting them off on his fingers, “there’s Natasha and Clint, and there’s Nick, who apparently travels a lot, Thor, Bruce, Tony, and Pepper.”

“Huh. Must be how they’re affording that house. How was the party before you got wasted?”

“Pretty good. Full of kinky people but not actually a kinky party, you know?”


	8. The One Where Natasha Has Spa Day And Then Fucks Pepper

“I bet Bucky is straight, and that’s what’s up,” Tony says, carefully filing Natasha’s toenails.

“It’s all too likely,” Pepper says with a sigh, applying opalescent green polish to the toes of the other foot, these nails already perfectly shaped.

“He seems like such a sweet boy,” Natasha adds, half asleep in her recliner. She mumbles a little bit, movement compromised by the seaweed mask Bruce has carefully mixed and applied for her. Tony stopped making jokes about Bruce applying all-natural compounds to Natasha’s face after she tied him up and made him come on her face until he was dry, since he ‘seemed to like the idea so much.’ He wouldn’t have quit, of course, but she had also assured him that they could repeat the experience if he just asked and didn’t make stupid jokes. At least not those stupid jokes, which particularly annoy his goddess. Pepper flushes all over at the memory of that lesson, and presses her lips to Natasha’s ankle before carefully setting her foot down for the first coat to dry. 

A good pedicure is an involved process, and they’ve taken care to make Natasha comfortable before beginning. Pepper loves pampering her mistress, and takes pride in her work. Tony does as well, and smiles when he sees Pepper watching him. “Almost done.” He makes a last pass over Natasha’s nails, and then kisses Pepper’s cheek before going to start on Natasha’s hand with a fresh emery board. Pepper hums at she paints the toes of the left foot to match those on the right. A moment after she finishes, the little kitchen timer goes off, letting them know that it’s time to remove the mask.

Pepper peels it off carefully, revealing Natasha’s milky, flawless skin, looking softer than ever. She blinks her eyes open slowly, and smiles up at Pepper. “I think this is the best one yet, mistress,” Pepper says softly.

“Mm. Duly noted.”

They spend the next two hours or so working on Natasha, exfoliating her few rough spots and covering her in moisturizer, applying leave-in conditioner to her dry ends, and making sure that each nail gets two coats of color and one of clear. As a girl Pepper had been torn between the kind of executive career she has ended up having, and being an esthetician, so days like this give her a chance to indulge. Natasha is always beautiful, but when Pepper has lovingly smoothed and primped and painted her with her own hands, she gets the urge to check her handiwork with her tongue. Tonight Natasha just smiles at her and slips one hand into Pepper’s panties, stroking the tip of her forefinger along Pepper’s wet slit. She pulls her hand free without having touched Pepper’s clit, and licks the slick from her fingertip as Pepper whimpers.

“After dinner, pet.”

Nick has cooked again, because it makes him feel useful, and he serves everyone. Years ago when someone had made the mistake of referring to Nick as a slave, he had almost knocked the guy down, and had snarled, “I’m an assistant, motherfucker!”

It stuck, of course, and now Tony coos, “Thanks for the assist, papa bear,” as Nick hands him his steaming bowl.

“You’re never welcome, brat,” Nick growls, and tweaks Tony’s nose when the soup is safely on the table.

Pepper tries to do justice to the flatbread and vegetable soup, but she’s distracted by watching Natasha’s plush mouth on the soft white inside of the bread. Natasha always appreciates her food, and watching her nuzzle into the spongy warmth is pure porn for a much-tried woman like Pepper. She ends up leaving the table early, lurking in Natasha’s bedroom with her clothes already off and neatly folded.

“All fours,” Natasha says, shutting the door behind her. Pepper shivers and obeys, spreading her legs and arching her back. “You have the prettiest cunt,” Natasha purrs, and Pepper blushes, because she usually hates the word, but something about the way Natasha says it just makes her wetter.

“Th-thank you, mistress,” she whispers, shivering as she hears Natasha coming closer and then opening the bedside drawer. She takes something out, but there are a lot of things in that drawer and Pepper can’t be sure which of them it is. She cries out as Natasha pushes her middle and ring fingers into her. The other two fingers hold Pepper’s lips apart, letting the other hand reach between them with something cool and smooth that Pepper recognizes as one of the egg vibrators before it switches on, set high and making her jump and squirm. 

Natasha slaps her ass. “Keep still, pet.”

“Yes, mistress!” Pepper gasps, and fights to keep still in the face of overstimulation. It’s so good that it hurts, and she sobs and buries her face in the pillow, thighs shaking. Natasha croons a steady stream of praise for Pepper. How good she’s being, how beautiful she is and what a sweet cunt she has, how pretty and red her little clit is getting as she takes it for her mistress. Pepper sobs and squirms but stays in place, letting out a scream and coming hard as Natasha shoves into that little divot behind her g-spot, the place that makes her squirt with enough of the right kind of attention. It doesn’t happen this time but Pepper still screams and feels like she’s dying and loving it, so that doesn’t really matter. Natasha switches off the vibrator and gives her slow, soothing strokes both inside and out, gentling her down to somewhere nearer baseline.

There’s a light knock on the door, and Natasha glances over. “Yes?”

“Is it girl time, or can we watch?” It’s Tony, and Natasha chuckles.

“Come in, boys. We’ve had our little moment together.”

Pepper shivers happily, and turns her head to smile as they come filing in, a bright-eyed and attentive audience, everyone at least half-hard. “How you doin’, champ?” Tony asks, crouching by her head to stroke her hair.

“Just aces, coach,” she says, and he grins. Natasha lets him kiss Pepper before gently shooing him over to the couch where the others are sitting. There isn’t really enough room for all of them, but Thor likes to sit on the floor and Tony likes to sit on Bruce’s lap and Nick likes the opportunity for cuddling that Clint sitting on his lap gives him, even if it hurts his bad knee.

“Fetch me the rocket, would you?” Natasha has acquired many strapons in the course of her life, and has named them for the sake of convenience. Pepper shudders, because the rocket is just the right size for her, and has a bulb to hook it into Natasha. She can hear Natasha sliding it in, and then her mistress is fucking her hard and fast, the boys whimpering and stroking each other as they watch.


	9. The One Where Steve Comes Over To Do Art

Steve gets a disability check for being so pathetic and wispy, but it isn’t much, so he also does the kind of odd jobs he can manage, while Bucky is their real breadwinner. It makes him anxious and guilty and snappish sometimes, but Bucky always says that Steve is basically his housewife, with the amount he does around the place, and that it all works out just fine. Steve also feels bad about all his frivolous art classes when Bucky works so hard, but he helps feed them both out of his financial aid, and he has a huge break on tuition from two scholarships working in concert. Still, between classes and trying to pay for them as well as general housework and upkeep, it takes him a while to call Natasha about more portraits. Finally a clear Saturday comes up, and he can make use of the number she gave him.

“Natasha’s phone,” a different woman’s voice says. “This is Pepper.”

“Oh, hi,” Steve says, feeling awkward. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not a bad time, just a busy one. Can I take a message? She’ll get right back to you.”

“Uh, well. This is Steve, and I wanted to thank all of you again for your hospitality, and to maybe arrange a time for more portraits if she was still up for that.”

“I can assure you that all of us are still up for that. We’re vain, and we like artists.”

Steve laughs. “Well, you are a group of very attractive people, a little vanity makes sense.”

“And flattery will get you everywhere. When should we call you back?”

“Oh, any time today. Don’t rush.”

“We’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” she says. “See you later, Steve.” He offers his own farewell in return and hangs up, wondering again about the exact network of relationships in Natasha’s household. He makes lunch for himself and Bucky, and his phone rings a few minutes after they finish their meal. It’s Natasha, cordially inviting him to come on over and work out what he wants to do. Bucky realizes that he has to check the mail anyway, and drops Steve off on the corner.

“If you can’t catch another ride home, _call me_ ,” Bucky says, and Steve nods, patting his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna lush it up this time.” He watches Bucky drive away, and then turns to the house and walks up those tall, old-fashioned steps. It’s a grey day, but in a way that’s more soothing than depressing. Steve steps up to the door, straightens his shirt, and rings the bell.

Thor answers it, and grins at him. “Good morning!” He practically fills the door, and his goodwill is palpable. Steve has to smile back.

“Morning, Thor. How are you?”

“Quite well. Please, come in.” He leads the way, and Steve is again impressed with how lived-in and comfortable this house is. It reminds him of the house he shared with his mother, back in those dim days before the group home and meeting Bucky.

“Yo,” Nick says, sitting at the counter and eating what appears to be a piece of bread and Nutella.

“Hey, is Natasha around?”

“Living room. What are you drinking? I’ll be making up a tray when I finish this.”

“Any kind of juice you have would be fine, thanks.” He’s surprised to find all the others in the living room, and smiles, setting his bag down. “Hey, guys.”

“I hear we get to be muses,” Tony says. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Steve laughs, and explains his mission to get better at portraiture and his interest in multiple studies of each of them, if they could stand it. Nick comes in with a tray of drinks for everyone, going to Natasha first, rolling his eyes as she takes her Bloody Mary. “If they could stand it? Tony’s the vainest man in the world, Pepper and Natasha are girls, and girls love it when cute boys draw them, and Bruce and I will do pretty much anything she tells us.”

“And of course she’ll want your beautiful scowly face for posterity,” Tony adds, snagging his own glass before Nick goes to Steve and hands him a cup of what appears to be guava juice. Steve thanks him and sips it he finishes his round of the room, setting the tray on the coffee table and settling between Clint and Bruce on the enormous sectional couch.

“I want all of you,” Natasha says, “and group shots, and while practice is free, Steve, we’re paying you if I decide I want real portraits.”

He of course tells her that she doesn’t have to, and they argue for a bit before he meekly submits to payment at her discretion upon completion of any actual finished work. That done, he takes advantage of the moment to do a quick, loose sketch of everyone on the couch as they finish their drinks. It’s more about capturing the way they hold themselves and their relative positions, and Steve is pleased with the result, tucking it away for safekeeping. Bruce escapes out back to some kind of laboratory, and Nick wanders off to make a work-related phone call in private, but as promised, Tony and both women remain, and Thor settles into an armchair to watch. Steve can’t help but feel a little self-conscious at first, but soon enough Natasha and Pepper have found a comfortable position and he is utterly absorbed in studying them. 

Steve wants to get better at the subtle differentiations in female facial features, and Pepper and Natasha are both gorgeous and feminine, but in very different ways. The struggle to express such delicate variance soon consumes him, and he sits there and hums softly, utterly happy in his work, half-empty glass forgotten at his elbow.


	10. The One Where Natasha Calls A House Meeting

Nick is good at observing without being observed, and by the time the kid looks up and squawks, “Shit, it’s half-past six!” he’s pretty sure that he’s in love. Steve is just so goddamn adorable. Nick is a hardened, vicious old bastard, but he has a weakness for small and cute types, especially when they’re as straightforward and sweet as Steve. The boy is talented, too, and that always makes people hotter. He says so when his mistress solicits his opinion, and she laughs.

“He _is_ very pretty,” Natasha says, beckoning Nick to set down beside her. He does, and she tucks herself under his arm, sighing and snuggling close. “I have to admit some interest, but of course I don’t want to upset my boys.”

“Of course not.” Nick kisses her cheek, breathing in that comforting scent that’s all Natasha. “You know me. I’m never threatened by a new pet.”

“Mm. It’s one of many things I like about you, papa bear.” He snorts, because for some reason the stupidity of the pet name makes it mean all the more. Natasha just chuckles, because she knows exactly what Nick is thinking. “What would you like to do with him?”

“Fuck him. Gently.”

“It’s true, I want to order him around, but the idea of flogging him or anything doesn’t quite sit right.”

“A lot of us aren’t even into that, Natasha. What’s one more?”

“Well, we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. The more of us there are, the more people he has to like.”

“True.” He kisses her cheek. “And there’s Bucky.”

“Who’s probably straight.”

“Who’s probably straight,” Nick agrees, “but that doesn’t keep a boy from being hung up on him.”

“It’s not even as if Steve is particularly kinky.”

“That we know about,” Nick says, and Natasha beams at him and gives him a soft kiss, nuzzling into his beard.

Thor and Pepper cook dinner tonight, which is nice. Nick finds himself doing it a lot when he’s here, and while he likes feeding everybody, sometimes it’s better to just sit here with Natasha and feel spoiled as the others run around and lay the table and make sure there are enough chairs. All of them know their work, and they don’t get into each other’s way. Natasha watches them with a fond, satisfied look, and murmurs, “Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nick says, shivering happily at another kiss. He’s not much of a pet, too old and tough and embarrassed. But sometimes when he snuggles up to Natasha some of that toughness softens up. She’s nice enough not to mention it most of the time, and doesn’t mention it now, just cuddling Nick until they can take their places at the table. She beams as the others join them, Thor and Pepper carrying the big serving dishes.

Dinner in Natasha’s house is always a noisy affair, Tony and Bruce talking about science while Pepper and Tony talk about business and Clint rags on his more annoying clients, and Thor stuffs his face and regales Natasha with tales of eating Aesir dishes at home, the way he always does when he cooks. Nick just smiles a little and listens, as surprised as anyone else when Natasha raps her spoon against her glass to call a house meeting. Not that house meetings are unusual, but they just had one about different hours and how Nick is gonna kill Clint and Tony the next time they wake him up for anything less than the house being on fire when he’s trying to sleep off his jetlag.

“Boys, Pepper, I’m thinking of extending an invitation.”

“If we’re inviting Steve in, I’m totally in favor,” Tony says. “He’s adorable.”

“The last invitation seems to have worked out, despite some initial roughness,” Bruce says, shrugging. Tony hugs him, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

“Damn right, baby,” he says, and Natasha smiles.

“Point.”

“You know I like him,” Nick says, shrugging.

“Of course you do, papa bear,” Tony coos, and beams when Nick glares at him.

“I’m in favor,” Pepper adds, and Natasha smiles at her, one of those ‘just-us-girls’ looks that Nick loves even as they lock him out. He has never really understood the terror some other guys have of moments like that, but he has a theory that it’s predicated on being involved with a woman you can’t trust.

“I find Steve adorable, and would like to know him better,” Thor adds.

“In the Biblical sense?” Natasha asks, and Thor laughs.

“That too, most assuredly.”

"Clint?"

Clint grins. "Hey, I saw him first. I'm down."

“Wonderful. Unanimity in these matters is what I strive for,” Natasha says, smiling when Tony snickers. “Of course, since we have no idea what’s going on in his emotional life, I think we should invite him and Bucky to dinner to see if we can ascertain just how hung up Steve may or may not be.”

“I still want to be friends with him if we can’t fuck him.” Tony adds. “I’m a sensitive, New Age kind of guy, after all.”

“Pepper, give him a corrective slap, I can’t reach,” Natasha says, and Pepper giggles and obliges, gently swatting the back of Tony’s head and then kissing it better. 

Nick just rolls his eyes and serves himself seconds. “Be sure and ask about dietary restrictions. I just know that boy has allergies.”

Natasha nods, and makes the call while Bruce and Tony wash the dishes because it’s their turn. Nick is still feeling a bit soft, and is stretched out on the couch beside her, resting his head on her thigh and half-listening as he reads, perking up at the sound of a definite day and time. Natasha idly rubs his scalp with one hand, and he makes a low, contented noise until she hangs up, smiling down at him. “Were you actually listening when we agreed on next Saturday?”

“Mmhm.”

“Good. And it turns out that Steve can’t eat walnuts, so you were right. It’s not as bad as Pepper's, though.”

Nick nods, committing this to memory.


	11. The One Where Bucky Meets The Household Properly

Steve doesn't get many dinner invites, and can't help but fuss a little before Bucky rolls his eyes and tells him that he looks fine, he always looks fine, and not to overdo it.

“Don't be enough of a fuckin' dork to put on a _tie_ , Rogers,” he says, leaning on the doorjamb. Steve rolls his eyes and takes his epi-pen and inhaler out of the medicine cabinet.

“Whatever, Barnes.” 

It's a relief not to have to take the bus, and Steve bounces out when they arrive, making Bucky laugh. “If you're that psyched not to have to cook, I oughta buy you dinner more often.” 

Steve snorts. “Like we could afford it. C'mon.” He leads the way up to the house and rings the bell. There's a longer pause than usual, and then Tony answers the door, flushed and a little breathless. 

“Hey! You guys are a little early, but c'mon in!” 

Steve blushes as he walks in. “I guess I forgot how much faster driving is. Sorry if this is a bad time.” 

“Eh, we invited you, don't worry about it. You guys want a drink? Put that damn bag down, Steve.” Steve puts his bag on the couch and follows Tony into the kitchen. “So, this is Bucky?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky says, offering his hand. Tony shakes it, clearly sizing him up, and then grins. 

“Awesome. What're you drinking?” 

Bucky is drinking whatever beer is available as usual, and Tony already knows which of the two types of juice in the fridge Steve prefers. He chatters away at them about the robot he's building and how weird Asgardian candy is. The kitchen is full of savory smells, and Tony grins when he sees Steve basking in it. 

“Nick put it together, which means he likes you.” 

Steve laughs. “Good.” There's some light thumping overhead, and he looks up, wondering what's going on. 

“They'll be down in a minute, I swear.” 

Steve laughs. “It's our fault for being early, Tony.” 

“That's the spirit!” Tony herds them out to the couch and sits down with them. It takes the others a bit longer to emerge, and Bucky raises an eyebrow at all of them coming down the stairs. Steve has to wonder what they were doing up there, and then Natasha comes down. Bucky's jaw drops. There's no real reason for it. Sure, Natasha is beautiful, but she's not naked or anything. She's her usual self, wearing a simple dress that hits her below the knee and light, naturalistic makeup. She stops halfway down and stares at Bucky, her eyes huge. 

“Natalie?” Bucky squawks. 

“James?” She asks in the same moment. Steve risks a quick glance around and is slightly relieved to see everyone else as confused as he is. Well, everyone but Nick and Clint anyway, who look deeply shocked, but not at all confused. 

“Seriously?” Clint says. “This is him?” 

Natasha nods, still frozen, and Clint comes over and gently closes Bucky's mouth. “We owe you a lot, buddy.” 

“If someone doesn't tell me what the fuck is going on, I'm going to start theorizing,” Tony says, “and I'm going to have Bruce help. No one wants that.” 

“It's Tasha's story,” Clint says, and shrugs. 

Natasha sighs deeply. “All right boys, circle time.” She comes the rest of the way down the stairs as Bruce settles on the couch and the others find spots on the floor, and curls up in the big armchair, watching everyone. “So Bucky is what your friends call you?” 

“And you're Natasha when you're at home.” Bucky is still staring, but seems to have recovered slightly. 

“Yes.” 

“And for those of us who came in late?” Steve asks, exasperated. 

“For you, here are the basics: once upon a time, there was a little Russian immigrant girl. Her mother and father died, leaving her alone. With no extended family, she went into foster care and hated it. As soon as she could, she left, and found that a hot, barely-legal redhead could do a lot more than pay the rent with pornography.” Steve's stomach drops, and she seems to see it in his face. “It wasn't so bad. Nearly-softcore girl/girl shoots, mostly. Nice girls.” She smiles sadly. “And then of course, I stopped being a 'fresh face.' I got less and less for the same stuff, and knew I would have to branch out.” 

Tony grimaces. “Ick.” 

“Yes, ick.” Natasha smiles. “I realized how bad it would have been without my costar, a sweet kid who had never done this before. He called himself James Winter and said the first part was his real name.” 

“It is,” Bucky says. “James Buchanan Barnes. Only Steve calls me Bucky.” 

“And us,” Tony says. “It's cute. Kinda retro.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says. He glances over at Steve, and it's heartbreaking how worried he looks. Steve can't deny being _shocked_ , but it's not like he'd drop Bucky over this or anything. 

“So, was this...?" 

“That job offer that didn't pan out? Yeah. I didn't wanna come back empty-handed, and these Red Room assholes said they were making a movie. I mean, I knew what kind and everything, but the scene was fucked up. I told Natalie that I thought she ought to leave, and I left when it was over, even though they wanted me for a couple more.” He looks at Natasha again. “I'm glad you got out.” 

“Clint gave me a place to stay, and Nick helped me find a different gig.” 

“Well,” Bruce says. “Now that we know we're all such good friends, how about dinner?” 

Bucky laughs, and Natasha smiles. “Good idea.” She gets up and leads them to the table, getting everyone settled while Bruce and Nick set the table and bring out pot roast, potatoes, and green salad. It's a nice, mild kind of meal, the sort of thing Steve is used to and can eat. Awkward as the evening's revelations have been, the food is good and all the guys are curious about what Bucky does now, not what happened then. Steve wishes it was as easy for him, and he can only hope he doesn't blush every single time he starts to picture Bucky and Natasha together. 


	12. The One Where Bucky Jerks Off To Steve

Bucky has had more awkward dinners. His first girlfriend's parents come to mind, but that was at least _normal_. This is fucking surreal. Tagging along to a dinner party with your roommate (and what must be some kinky motherfuckers if Natasha is even remotely the same person) to end up passing the potatoes to a girl you fucked under an assumed name in a terrible porno three years ago is well beyond bizarre. Steve has the sense to leave him alone to think, closing his door and presumably making more art because the man is a goddamn machine that way. Bucky sighs and pours himself a drink, going to his own room to brood. He hasn't actually thought about the Red Room in a long time. He shut the book on those assholes and took his money and ran. Forgetting about that shit was easy. Forgetting the girl he knew as Natalie, though... that's harder. So fucking tough and so vulnerable at the same time, and those fucking scumbags telling him to slap her, to choke her, to step on her head. They had actually laughed when he had insisted on washing his goddamn feet. 

He and Natasha had finished every day exhausted and pissed off and ashamed of themselves. Bucky will never forget that feeling, of being warped into something other than himself, some stupid porno beast, contemptuous and demanding and automatic. Mindless, grotesque. He hates those memories, but the other ones haunt him more. Of when he and Natasha would go back to her apartment and... _correct_ things. The first night he hadn't even known what he was doing, just helpless and drunk and maudlin and so fucking sorry. He had knelt down on that unvacuumed rug and kissed her feet, mumbling that she was a goddess and deserved so much more. Bucky had felt like he was falling off a tilting world that night, tumbling end over end into space without even straws to grasp at. And then Natasha had knotted her hand in his hair and let him know that he didn't have to hold on, that she would keep him on the ground. He shivers, biting his lip as he remembers the way she just _took_ him that night. She made him crawl into the bedroom and onto the bed, tied him there and told him to say 'red' if he wanted her to stop and then got to work on wrecking him. 

Turned out choking and slapping could be a damn good time after all. Bucky shudders, remembering her small hands on his throat. He hadn't really done anything like it before or since. Other girls either aren't into it, or aren't into it _enough_. And then there's Steve. Oh god, Steve. Bucky doesn't care that Steve is gay, but he wishes he could figure himself out. Because he's not gay. He thinks. He never really has been, anyway. Bucky won't lie and say he can't tell when other men are attractive, but in general they don't really get to him like girls do. But Steve... he can't even tell when it fucking happened. He and Steve have known each other since they were kids, and Bucky has been chasing girls since before Steve came out to him. But somehow, Bucky has fallen for the the little weirdo. Like, he wants to touch Steve. He wants to gather that skinny little body into his arms and just hold Steve. Keep him warm and cozy and safe. And then lay him out on his back and grip his thighs to hold them open. The amount of times Bucky has wondered how far he could get a hand around each one is kind of excessive. He isn't even all that into skinny girls! Sure, some of them make it work, but Bucky is more into the classic hourglass. Girls like Natasha. It's like he has some kind of weird Steve fetish that makes him want to map all those jutting bones with his tongue. 

Bucky groans and flops back onto the bed, half-hard just from thinking about Steve. He wonders what the fuck he's going to do. Especially now that he has met Natasha, the real face of the girl he has never forgotten. He had wondered at the time if he was falling in love with her, and now he has to wonder again. Even if she's with Clint, who, well... Maybe Bucky is a little more gay than he realized, because Clint is pretty hot, and picturing him on his knees for Natasha has completely decided Bucky's next course of action. He needs a shower anyway.

Steve is still shut in his own room, and Bucky wonders if he should go talk to him afterward. For now he snags a towel and locks himself in the bathroom. It's tiny, but Steve keeps it clean, with the expensive stuff that doesn't have too many face-melting chemicals in it. Bucky seems to have finally broken Steve of his habit of going cheap and just letting himself get hives, at least. He steps under the fitful but at least actually hot spray of the shower, and leans against the wall, hissing softly as he grips his cock. It actually has been about a day too long, and he groans under his breath, squeezing and stroking slow and hard. It's the way Natasha always touched him. Just a little too rough and just right. He tips his head back and speeds up a little, whimpering when he imagines Natasha wrapped around him from behind and Steve on his knees, watching with those wide blue eyes.

It doesn't take Bucky long to come, and he has to bite his own shoulder to stay quiet, shaking and whimpering for a long time. The water is cold by the time he's clean and can switch it off, and he hopes Steve wasn't going to shower, feeling like an asshole. Wrapped in a towel, he opens the door to the smell of pound cake, and smiles. Steve always makes old-fashioned baked goods when he feels like Bucky needs reassurance or comfort, and it always helps.


	13. The One Where Steve Starts To Realize The Full Extent Of Natasha's Harem

Despite the very real awkwardness of Bucky and Natasha starring in a porno together, Steve is back over there soon enough. If he has drawings of Bucky fucking Natasha stashed in the back of his portfolio, no one has to know about them. Drawing these beautiful people day in and day out, spending time with them and learning their combined scent and seeing them touch each other is giving him more unwanted erections than anything since high school. He hasn't forgotten about Bucky or anything, but Nick's rare smiles make him weak in the knees and if he doesn't get to touch Bruce's hair soon he may do something desperate.

When he mentions this to Bucky, Bucky just laughs. They're lounging on the living room floor and sipping fortified cocoa (Schnapps for Bucky, Bailey's for Steve) because it's late enough in the summer now that the nights are a bit too chilly for Steve, and a warming drink helps. “It is kind of a man buffet, huh?”

Steve giggles, nearly spilling his cocoa into their piles of blankets and pillows. _Hellboy_ continues to play unremarked as Steve says, “Exactly. Different flavors, all of which are good.”

Bucky steadies Steve's cup, grinning. “So I guess neither of us has a type.”

“I thought you liked curvy girls.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “That's not a _type_.”

“Tony's curvy,” Steve says, and giggles again.

Bucky steals a sip of his drink. “Think you used enough dynamite there, Butch?”

“Probablyyy,” Steve admits, and flops over, curling into a little ball in the warmth.

“No more booze for baby,” Bucky says, and pours Steve's cup into his own. “Man, I hope this doesn't curdle.”

“Serve you right, you thief.” Steve shakes one bony fist and then quiets, distracted by the surreal beauty of Liz Shaw going up in flames. He loves this scene, and holds the blankets tight around himself. Bucky always teases him for being a typical artistic misfit, but like most of the things Bucky teases him about, Steve knows he doesn't really mind it at all.

“I know you don't really mind at all,” Steve mumbles later, as Bucky scoops him up along with an armful of blankets. Bucky just chuckles, setting Steve on his bed.

“I don't mind much of anything, Stevie-boy. G'night.” He closes Steve's door and leaves him to dream of beautiful people and pure blue flames.

The next day Bucky drives Steve to Natasha's house under forbidding skies, and squints anxiously up at the dark clouds as Steve steps out onto the corner. “Whatever you do, don't stand in the goddamn rain waiting for me. I'll walk up.”

Steve rolls his eyes, armed with both an umbrella and a raincoat. “Okay, Bucky. God, you fret like an old woman.”

“Worrying about you has aged me. And given me a sex change. Now get out.”

Steve laughs and gets out, waving as Bucky drives off. There's a loud crack of thunder that makes him jump, and he hurries inside, leaning back against the door when it shuts. “Jeez.”

“Looks like a pretty nasty day,” Nick agrees. He's sitting at the kitchen table and polishing a beautiful old silver service as Thor washes the windows, using his great height to reach the tops of the tall panes.

“Not nasty,” Thor says with a bright smile, “thunderous!”

Nick makes a faint, dry sound of amusement. “That, too. Hang up your coat, Steve. Make yourself comfortable.”

“If it's cleaning day I feel like I should help,” Steve says putting his things in order and coming into the kitchen.

“We meant to quit before you got here, but you can handwash the good plates. If you want. There's gloves under the sink.”

Steve puts them on and carefully washes some of the loveliest flatware he has ever seen. It's thin and delicate and rimmed with gold, the pattern on the centers one of fruit, flowers, and leaves. Steve takes care not to chip any of it, and arranges them on the nearby rack to air dry. That done, he drains the soapy water like the noxious poison it is, and rinses the gloves before peeling them off. He turns to see Thor watching him, and smiles sheepishly.

“I'm allergic to a lot of stuff. Bucky and I have to buy special cleaners.”

“Do you feel all right now?” He asks, looking so concerned that Steve wants to hug him.

“Oh, this is fine, your house is pretty well-ventilated. We live in a shoebox, though, so it's best to play it safe.” He tucks the gloves away and then jumps when Tony comes charging in. He has a dusty bandana tied over his hair and is wielding a mostly used up roll of what appears to be Happy Birthday wrapping paper like a sword.

“The hall closet is organized! I demand adulation!” He climbs into Nick's lap, forcing him to set his work down and peel off his own gloves. Tony gives him a long and demanding kiss, and then looks over Nick's shoulder. “Oh, hi, Steve.” Steve blinks, wide-eyed and blushing. He has had his suspicions, but wasn't expecting to have them so beautifully confirmed. “Did that freak you out?” Tony asks, still in Nick's lap. “Please don't be a self-loathing homo, that's so last century.”

Steve laughs until he coughs, and Thor pats his back, all solicitude and concern. “I'm all right,” he tells Thor, and grins at Tony. “So it's all of you? I knew this wasn't just Natasha and Clint and friends, but I couldn't be sure.”

“Yeah, we're an actual six-way. Some of us sleep together more often because of shared schedules or interests, like all the lab sex Bruce and I have, but we're all part of the bigger thing.”

“Cool. Uh, is there anything else I could help with?”

“Nah,” Tony says, waving a dismissive hand. “Just kick back and scribble until we've got lunch together.”

Steve allows himself to be sidelined when Nick and Thor also gang up on him, and is doodling a flying saucer when Clint comes up from the basement with his shirt looped over the back of his neck. Steve tries not to choke on his own tongue.

“Hey, Steve! Whatcha drawin'?” He throws himself down on the couch beside Steve.

“Aaaaaliennnssss,” Steve intones, showing him a whole page of little green men that make him laugh.

“You figure The Truth Is Out There?” He asks, leaning close.

“Maybe,” Steve admits, and Clint grins. 

“Awesome, I have someone to help me make tinfoil hats.”


	14. The One Where Steve Has To Stay The Night

Natasha is delighted to see Steve when she and Pepper make their way down, the upstairs finally vacuumed. Clint looks up at her from his place beside Steve, and grins. “He's so damn talented, Tasha.”

Steve blushes as red as a tomato, and Natasha laughs, sitting on his other side and gesturing for Pepper to join her. They paw through his drawings and compliment him as he squirms. It's adorable, but after a little while Natasha takes pity on him and turns the conversation to lunch. Pepper puts in everyone's sandwich order with Thor, whose turn it is to make food.

“What about Bruce?” Steve asks.

“Guest speaking,” Natasha explains. “Bruce volunteers at schools.”

“Oh, cool. I do that sometimes.”

Clint grins. “Of course you do.” Steve blushes again, and it's just as cute this time.

“I still say it was a ploy to miss a big chunk of cleaning day!” Tony calls from the kitchen, and Natasha laughs, getting up and going to him, draping her arms over his shoulders and kissing his cheek.

“I believe in rewarding successful connivance, Tony, you know that.” A particularly loud crack of thunder makes her jump, and Tony grins at her.

“Nervous, milady?”

“Only a little.” She kisses him properly this time, and then goes to do the same with Nick, who growls happily and nuzzles into her hair, breathing in her scent before releasing her to cuddle Thor as he finishes slapping everyone's order together. She helps Nick clean up, and Tony runs everything out to the dining room, because they have a table big enough for six people and guests, and they're damn well going to use it instead of ruining her upholstery.

The weather turns even worse while they eat, and by the time Steve is actually making noises about leaving there's a goddamn flood warning for low-lying areas. The whole neighborhood is on the top of a small hill, they probably won't even have to deal with wet carpets, but Bucky calls Steve to say that the road is out between there and here, yelling over the sound of pounding rain on a tin roof. Steve yells back, something about the relative affordability of a cab. It isn't very long before Natasha can't stand it anymore, taking the phone to tell Bucky that they'll take care of Steve. It's rude, but she's glad she did it when the connection cuts out the second she finishes speaking.

“Thanks,” Steve says, going pink again. The way his pale little faces colors and blanches in turn is fascinating to watch.

“It's not as if you haven't spent the night here before,” Natasha points out, and Steve chuckles.

“Can I have my old room?”

“I don't see why not,” Natasha says, and goes to make sure that no one has left anything in it or slept on the bed lately. It only needs a little bit of straightening, and after that she's free to spend the rest of the evening watching her boys flirt with Steve. He really does fit right in, and helps her make dinner because Natasha takes her turn with everyone else. Steve is a great kitchen assistant, and he turns the cutest shade of pink when Natasha hugs him and tells him so before they bring the serving dishes out.

“You're welcome,” he says, shy and breathy, and she smiles down at him. She really wants to just swoop in and kiss him, but she lets him go instead. There's no need to be pushy. Dinner is cozy and convivial, even when a massive crack of thunder makes Bruce jump and spill his drink.

“I hate it,” he says apologetically, mopping up iced tea.

“Aw, poor guy,” Steve says, passing paper towels to Tony, who's sitting between them.

Bruce smiles wryly, and kisses Clint's cheek in gratitude when he moves to help with the cleanup. “It averages out, though. Thor loves thunderstorms.”

“My name is Thor, beloved,” Thor says, giving Bruce a comforting pat, “how could I not?”

After dinner Bruce goes down to the basement with Tony and Clint, Steve and Nick filtering down there when it turns out that they have a poker game going. Natasha and Pepper sit in for a few hands, and then leave the boys to their own devices. Well, all the boys but Thor, who's out bathing in the rain and tempting fate. One of these days some prying neighbor is going to report his naked ass, and Natasha is going to have to go bail him out. Probably not tonight, though. It's as dark as a stack of black cats out there.

“Mistress?” Pepper says, very shyly as they make their way up to the bedroom. She sneaks her hand into Natasha's in that confiding and adorable way she has when she wants something and thinks Natasha won't approve.

“Yes, darling?”

“I was wondering if we could watch one of your movies, but if you don't want to right now I'd understand, and--” she's starting to babble a little, and Natasha stops her with a kiss.

“Darling, I'm all right with watching any of the ones I own, and re-meeting Bucky hasn't changed that.” Besides, it would be cruel to deprive Pepper of _School Days_ , a truly filthy offering with Natasha corrupting three of her pretty little dormmates. Light bondage and whipping are involved, along with the kind of frothy lingerie confections that Pepper loves. To prepare for their viewing, Natasha dresses Pepper and herself accordingly, and they cuddle up together and eat the grape-flavored organic hard candies Bruce left in the bedside drawer because making popcorn is entirely too much effort. As the movie plays, Natasha murmurs about her costars to Pepper, telling her how sweet Trixie's cunt tasted and how to tell Autumn's fake orgasms from the real ones Natasha managed to give her.


	15. The One Where Steve Watches Natasha And Pepper

Steve tends to go to bed early, and often doesn't sleep through the night. Usually he can just lie still and go under again, but there are times when he needs water, or a cough drop, or a spoonful of honey to put his blood sugar up enough to stop the nausea. This time he's just awake, though, and after staring at the ceiling for a while he hops up and pulls his clothes back on, heading for the kitchen to get a glass of water. And perhaps to eat something from the fruit bowl. He's weighing the relative merit of a banana and an orange when he wanders into the dim kitchen and finds Pepper and Natasha tangled up together. Pepper is pressed back against the counter, whimpering as Natasha's thigh grinds between hers. 

The way they're positioned Natasha is really the only thing holding her up, and Pepper is just completely melted, biting her lip and mostly keeping back these beautiful little whimpering noises. The really amazing thing is that they're dressed the way they probably would be if Steve was dreaming this, and he's pretty sure he's awake. Their curves are framed by sheer fabric and lace, and they're wearing thigh-high stockings with honest-to-god garter belts. Steve stares, blinks, and pinches his arm hard, because there is no way these two women are actually here and in the classic lingerie he likes best.

And then Natasha looks over the whole illusion shatters as she stills, Pepper's eyes blinking open. This is actually happening, and Steve isn't sure who's more embarrassed. The contest is solely between himself and Pepper. Natasha just looks amused.

“I... uh... ohgod. I'm so, so, sorry.” Steve pats at pockets he doesn't have for his inhaler, sure he's going to have an asthma attack from sheer awkwardness.

Natasha chuckles, stroking Pepper's hair “It's all right. We shouldn't have started this in the kitchen with a guest in the house.”

“I'll go,” Steve says, gesturing weakly in the direction of his room.

“Oh, not on our account,” Natasha coos, and Steve feels like he's having a heart palpitation, but pleasant.

“I, uh...” Steve swallows and hopes he's not too obviously hard. Sometimes blood pressure problems can be a blessing.

“Do you want to watch me fist Pepper?” Natasha asks, and Pepper moans and shivers in her arms.

It takes Steve a long moment to verbalize the 'yes' that his mind is screaming, but he manages to say, “Yeah, if it's all right with Pepper.”

Pepper pulls her face out of Natasha's shoulder, still bright red but smiling now. “It's all right with me.”

Natasha ushers Pepper upstairs, Steve following behind and hypnotized by the sway of their hips. He feels almost like he's cheating on Bucky, but that's ridiculous. The bedroom is large and comfortable, and it smells like Natasha's perfume. The bed is the biggest one Steve has ever seen in his life, and he's surprised not to see any of the others.

Natasha smiles at the look on his face. “The boys are in other rooms. Pepper and I were having girls' night.”

“But we're glad you're here,” Pepper adds, kissing Steve's cheek before going to the bed and stretching out on her back, sighing.

“Pepper can be shy, but she likes an audience she can trust,” Natasha says, lying beside Pepper and kissing her deeply. Steve stands there feeling dumb before he realizes that the armchair behind him will give him a perfect view. He settles into it and watches, spellbound.

“I'm glad you feel that way, Pepper,” he whispers, and she smiles at him again. Natasha grins, and slowly removes Pepper's bra, biting her neck and sucking her nipples as one hand slides into her panties and makes her moan. Steve actually feels faint with arousal by the time the panties come off. Pepper is groaning with every breath, the sounds rising higher and higher until she bucks and cries out. Steve isn't the best judge of these things, but he's pretty sure she just came. Natasha confirms it by her slow and wicked grin, and Pepper beams up at her, blushing.

“Good, kitten?”

“Yes, mistress,” Pepper breathes.

“Wonderful.' Natasha kisses Pepper's inner thigh and then guides her knees up, spreading Pepper's legs as wide as possible. Steve hears a sharp little whimper and blushes even more than he is already when realizes that it came from him. Natasha looks over and smiles at him, beckoning him to come closer. “Bring the chair,” she says, “I want you to have a better view.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” Steve says, and Pepper shivers, watching him settle close enough to touch her if he reached out. 

He doesn't reach out, because he hasn't been given permission to touch, and Natasha says, “Good boy,” the words going straight to some deep and strange place inside him. “Watch closely.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he says, and he watches. He watches as Natasha goes from one finger to four, and Pepper wails and writhes and begs for more. She's usually so composed and controlled, but now she's helpless and stretched, long graceful legs made clumsy by desperation. Steve is watching when it happens. He sees the moment when Pepper's slick, pink flesh swallows the full width of Natasha's hand, and he glances up to see her face as Natasha slides in up to the wrist, and suddenly all Steve wants in the world is pencil and paper, to make some feeble effort to capture how beautiful Pepper is right now. Even if he could, though, there's no way to catch her endless, looping cries, sharp and mindless and transported. Steve can't tell if she comes again because of the intensity of the whole thing, but at last Pepper subsides, panting, and Natasha coos soft praise into her ear as she gently works her hand free.


	16. The Morning After The One Before

It takes Pepper a long time to really register anything that's going on around her. She's just warm and floating, and knows that Natasha will take care of her. She cuddles up in Natasha's arms, and dimly hears her asking Steve to go fetch the wet wipes. She blushes, a little retroactively embarrassed the way she is any time she has someone watch. Natasha knows how to handle it, murmuring to her about how beautiful she is and how much Steve enjoyed the show. By the time Steve gets back, Pepper isn't hiding her face in Natasha's neck anymore and can smile up at him. He beams back, open and honest and sweet.

“I'm really glad you let me watch, Pepper.”

“You're welcome, Steve. You've been a lovely audience.”

He hands the wipes to Natasha, who starts tenderly cleaning Pepper, who hisses and squirms a little because of the pleasant ache Natasha's fist has left behind. She can feel Steve's eyes on her, and looks up at him with a shy smile. He smiles back, blushing badly. “Uh, I...”

“Go take care of yourself and then come back for cuddles,” Natasha tells him, and Steve's blush deepens.

“Yes, ma'am,” he says, headed to the bathroom with his hands failing to hide a very impressive erection relative to the rest of him. Pepper licks her lips and Natasha grins, kissing her.

“Filthy little thing,” she purrs, and Pepper shivers happily.

“Yours, Mistress.”

“My good girl,” Natasha agrees. “How do you think Steve is touching himself right now?”

“Fast,” Pepper says, shivering as she pictures it. “I'll bet he's using both hands and really squeezing.”

“Mmm. We'll have to have him demonstrate for us.” She sighs. “But after he talks to Bucky.”

Pepper nods, and nuzzles her face into Natasha's perfect breasts. The whole gang frequently worship Pepper's, but there are times when bigger really is better, like right now when she just wants to drown herself in Natasha's warmth and softness and scent. She's half-dozing when Steve comes back, flushed and scrubbed and adorable. Natasha smiles and holds out her arms to him. He snuggles in beside them, a slight weight on the mattress. Natasha holds them both, purring in the happy note Pepper has come to know and love. Steve sighs, wrapping his skinny little arm over both of them, his hand just resting on Pepper's hip.

“Comfortable?” Natasha murmurs.

“Yeah,” Steve says softly, and nuzzles her shoulder, yawning quietly. Pepper smiles, and dozes off soon after Steve does. She dreams of an underwater city, and feels like she's swimming up from the bottom of the ocean as she slowly blinks awake.

“Hey, beautiful,” Tony says, silhouetted by the late-morning sun.

Pepper giggles and pulls him down into a hug. “Morning, Tony. You and the boys have fun?”

“Yeah, but of course we're all devastated to have missed Lesbian Lingerie Night.”

“You'll get your chance.” She sits up and stretches, seeing no sign of Natasha or Steve. “House breakfast?”

“Yeah. Steve turns a radiant pink every few minutes. It's like a semaphore signal.”

“Far be it from me to miss that,” Pepper says, kissing Tony again and getting up. She's already clean because her mistress takes such good care of her, so she can just pull on one of her vintage-style housedresses. It's a look Tony and Natasha both love on her, and he catches her for a moment and kisses her before letting her pad down the stairs ahead of him into the sound and smell of a house breakfast. Everyone is gathered around the table except for Steve, who is making blackberry pancakes as if his life depends on it, angelic face wearing an expression of extreme concentration.

Thor waves to them. “Come and help us convince Steve to stop and eat some of these!”

Pepper laughs, and goes to Steve, kissing his cheek. “Steve?”

He turns pink. “I'm nearly done. How many would you like?”

“Three, and I'll take over.” She gently shunts Steve to the side, forcing him to admit defeat and go to the table and eat. Thor laughs at his chagrin, and pats his back.

“You can't win them all, Steve.”

“Yeah, and he already won the Pretty Things On Pretty Girls lottery,” Tony says, laughing as Steve goes from pink to red.

“I, uh...” Steve looks around helplessly, and Natasha leans over to kiss his cheek.

“Boys, don't tease Steve. He's shy. And a sweetie.” She kisses him again and he makes a tiny squeaky noise that makes Pepper want to scoop him up into her arms like a bunny. The boys are obedient though, and Steve is relaxed by the end of the meal, chattering away about ancient art until his phone rings.

“Hey, Bucky,” he says, getting up and wandering into the living room for privacy. He's out there for a few minutes before coming back. “So, they're still putting up sandbags and draining things off, but Bucky says he'll probably be here by about five pm at the latest. Hope I'm not a bother.”

“You are never a bother, Steve,” Natasha tells him. “You are lovely and we enjoy having you here. And if Bucky does show up at five, he can join us for dinner.”

Steve blushes yet again. “Thank you.”

Nick chuckles. “Hey, you're the one who made blackberry pancakes. Thank _you_.”

“You're welcome,” Steve says softly, looking shy and pretty and totally edible. Pepper smiles at him, and then goes out to stand on the front step and look out at the street, where puddles throw off rainbows and leaves and twigs cover the sidewalk.


	17. The One Where Steve And Bucky Start To Resolve Their UST

Steve listens to Bucky's tale of spending the night at work as they drive home, feeling weirdly guilty. After all, Bucky is straight and they're friends, not anything else. And all Steve did was watch, jerk off, and get a few kisses on the cheek and some chaste cuddling. Somehow, despite all the facts, he still feels lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut. By the time they've reached home, Bucky is giving him these little worried looks, clearly aware that Steve is stewing about something but with no idea what.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve says as they get out of the car.

“Yeah?”

“We need to talk.”

“Shit, I thought so.” He leads the way inside and gets himself a beer and Steve a Sprite. They sit down on the couch and Steve pays way too much attention to opening his can of soda. “Damn it, Steve, what's up?” Bucky finally growls, and Steve sighs.

“Stuff happened last night.” The second he it leaves his mouth, Steve realizes that that phrasing was a mistake. Bucky's eyes go flat and as cold as the heart of winter, knuckles white where he grips the bottle.

“Who do I have to kill, Steve?”

“No, no, not like that!” Steve waves his hands as if what Bucky's thinking is hanging between them, an image made of smoke. “I wanted it, it was fine, I just feel weird now.” He stares down at his hands, feeling a flash of hate for how small and delicate they are.

“Oh. Weird like you don't know how to face them again?”

“...Actually, no.” He looks up at Bucky now, and sighs. “I... I felt like I was cheating on you.”

“....What.”

Steve feels himself flush, his face scalding. His throat knots up and he feels like he's going to cry, but damn it, he has to get this out. “I... I love you. I mean, you know I've loved you as a friend for years, but now I'm actually in love with you. I have been for a while, but--” Bucky cuts Steve off with a kiss, one big, gentle hand cupping the side of Steve's face. It's a real kiss, firm and definite, but with no tongue, because Bucky is a goddamn gentleman. Steve shudders and whines, melting into it.

“I'm not even fucking gay, Rogers,” Bucky growls, kissing him again. “The hell have you done to me?”

Steve laughs, tears welling up and spilling over. “I'm not gay either, lunkhead. I like girls, too.”

“So what happened last night?” Bucky asks, nibbling at the corner of Steve's mouth.

“I... oh... Pepper and Natasha let me watch them together.”

“Ohh, _fuck_ ,” Bucky moans, and kisses Steve more roughly, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Steve gasps the details every time they break to breathe, too wound up to worry about being a gentleman. As he speaks, Bucky pushes him onto his back on the couch, careful not to put too much weight on him. Steve whimpers and wraps himself around Bucky, clinging.

“I-is this just about the story, Buck?” Steve whispers when Bucky pulls away again.

“No. No, I've been trying to figure out why I'm gay for you for about a year.”

Steve laughs and kisses him again. “Can't it just be my undeniable animal magnetism?”

Bucky grins, nibbling his lower lip. “I dunno, man. Maybe it's these big, blue eyes,” he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Steve's eye before claiming his mouth again . “But you're fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, “and smart, and talented, and I fucking love you.” Steve whimpers, and kisses Bucky hungrily, hands knotting into his hair as Steve's hips roll against his belly. Steve blushes, but can't seem to stop, and Bucky shudders. “Goddamn, you're hung for such a little guy,” Bucky murmurs, and Steve whines. “Okay if I touch it?”

“Y-yeah,” Steve gasps, and then moans as Bucky opens his jeans and slides a hand inside, pulling Steve's briefs down just far enough to get a good grip on him, to feel the weight of his cock and to cup his balls. Steve moans and kisses Bucky again, just hanging on as his friend strokes and squeezes him, that big hand so firm and so gentle. Steve whimpers, thrusting into Bucky's grip, and moans as Bucky murmurs encouragement in his ear, to just do it, that Bucky wants to see him come, wants to feel it all hot and slick in his hand. After a few minutes of this, Steve obliges, shaking and whining through his nose, teeth sunk into Bucky's shoulder through his shirt. Bucky moans, and sits back to lick his hand clean.

“Fuck, you even taste good,” Bucky growls, and Steve whimpers, feeling too breathless to do much of anything. It's frustrating because he wants to get Bucky off, to make him feel like this. Bucky just smiles. “Inhaler?”

This is far from a full-blown attack, but Steve nods, and Bucky passes it over. Steve takes a few hits and sighs. “I just wish I wasn't so easy to wear out.”

“It's okay,” Bucky says, and kisses Steve's neck. Steve sighs and shivers, setting the inhaler aside when Bucky straddles him, freeing his own chafed and wet cock. “This okay?” He asks, slowly starting to rut against Steve's belly.

“Y-yeah,” Steve whispers, and reaches for him. “C'mere.” Bucky leans down and moans into Steve's mouth, kissing him softly as he rolls his hips, slow and steady and controlled.

“God, Steve, your skin is so soft...” Bucky breathes, and Steve whines, sucking on his tongue and savoring every warm pulse as Bucky comes.


	18. Animal Day I

Whatever else may happen, flood or fire or hurricane, Animal Day will go on. It's very important to all of them. Bruce particularly likes it, because Animal Day is really easy. He gets into a headspace where nothing matters but the moment, and the worst Natasha will do to any of her precious puppies is to say no or use the squirter. Bruce likes being a puppy, and that's probably part of why he wakes up so early. Natasha has left everyone's animal gear neatly laid out on the kitchen table, and Bruce extricates himself from the pile to get an early start, putting on his collar, ears, tail, and all four paw mitts. The ears are floppy, and the fur on them and all the other extremities matches his hair. He wanders into the kitchen, where everyone's water bottles are hanging. They're much more like the ones used by hamsters than anything for dogs (or cats) but it's the best system. Bruce sucks down a long drink and then scampers into the bedroom, the heart-shaped tag on his collar jingling. He paws at Natasha, hind legs coiled under him. She yawns, and he whines softly, wagging his tail. Natasha opens her eyes and smiles, and Bruce beams at her.

“Hey, boy,” she croons, ruffling his hair. “Up!” He hops onto the bed beside her, cuddling close as she tells him what a sweet boy he is, laughing when he licks her face. Natasha lounges with him for a while, both of them looking up when Tony comes in. His tail is curled like an Afghan hound's, and he pants softly, looking amused. He comes up as well when Natasha calls him, and soon he has Bruce on his belly, humping against his ass. Bruce whines, and yelps when Tony pulls away only to start licking Bruce's hole, making him whine and groan. Natasha shivers, petting and praising them both. “Such sweet puppies, playing so nicely together.” Bruce wiggles joyfully, and cranes his neck to lick her face because he loves her so much. When Bruce is a puppy he almost can't bear how much he loves everyone. And he can never bear how much he loves Tony's mouth. With Natasha stroking his cock, it isn't very long before Bruce shudders and gasps, coming all over her hand. “Dirty puppy,” she coos, and Tony whines. Natasha laughs and lets him lick her hand clean before stroking him as well, making him whimper and wriggle all over the bed as Bruce licks his face and hugs him with clumsy forelegs.

After a while of warm lounging, Natasha gets up and showers, leaving her puppies to snuggle on the bed. Bruce is starting to doze off again when a soft mew makes him open his eyes as Pepper climbs up onto the bed. She always looks cute in her orange tabby ears, paws, and tail, and now she delicately sniffs at Tony's face before gently patting him the way cats do with creatures they love. Tony lets out a little bark in sheer delight, and Pepper draws back a bit, always alarmed by sudden noises. Tony pants and wiggles his body ingratiatingly, and Pepper purrs, settling down between them. They listen to the running shower, and then to Natasha blow-drying her hair before she comes out to them, cooing babytalk to Pepper, her precious little puffball kitten.

By this point everyone is getting hungry, though, so after some cuddling Natasha gets up and leads the way to the kitchen, where Clint is pawing open one of the low cupboards. “No!” Natasha says sharply, and squirts him in the face with the green plastic squirt bottle sitting beside the fruit bowl. He makes a resentful noise and rubs at the moisture with the back of his grey paws. “Silly puppy,” Natasha says more gently, and pets him, scratching behind his button ears. “I'll make everyone breakfast.”

Bruce settles in to watch Natasha work, as she pulls out the chunks of meat and potato she prepared last night, heating them up in a skillet before finally calling, “Dish!” Bruce and the other dogs go bounding off to fetch their dishes while Natasha serves Pepper on a real plate. The thumping of their paws on the floor wakes Thor and Nick, who stumble out on two legs to put on their fur and then join in. Nick is another cat, and slinks into the kitchen on sleek black paws for a plate of his own, Thor bolting in with his red plastic dish in his mouth, panting around it. All of them stare up at Natasha like she holds the answers of the universe in her hands instead of meat and potatoes, and whine pathetically as she serves them in turn. They don't eat until she tells them to, bitterly envious of the cats, who nibble away as if no one else exists.

At last Natasha says, “Take it, boys,” and they start to devour their breakfast. The meat is tender and spiced enough to make the bland potatoes an excellent counterbalance, and there's plenty for everyone, despite the natural anxiety and greed of hungry dogs. Natasha takes care of herself as they eat, and soon everyone is fed and they can play. The backyard has a high enough fence for them to go outside, and they explode outward when Natasha opens the door. This isn't the kind of neighborhood where mowing is required, so the grass is lush and soft as he and Tony roll in it, biting and tussling and growling with no malice at all. Thor leaps and bounds at Natasha's feet, wagging his tail frantically as she holds up a rubber ball, poised to throw.


	19. The One Where Natasha Makes It Official

Steve has done some sketches since his heart-to-heart-to-other-parts with Bucky, but those had all been group events, with everyone upright and fully clothed. Other than thanking Pepper and Natasha again for letting him watch, Steve hasn't really had occasion to talk about it. And then Natasha cordially invites him to tea. Not at the house, because she wants it to be just the two of them, and Steve is a bundle of nerves on the bus on the way over. He has of course never been to the exclusive little tea house Natasha likes, and is a bit embarrassed at how relieved he is by Natasha's assurance that she'll buy because he's her guest. Ensconced in their little private booth in the back, Steve learns about plum tea and how deliciously sweet it is as Natasha tells him that she has asked the others and that he and Bucky are both welcome into Natasha's harem if they like.

At the time, Steve had blushed and stammered and fled, but he's pretty sure Natasha doesn't hold that against him. Now that he and Bucky have talked it over and slept on it for a few nights, Steve takes a deep breath and calls Natasha.

“Hi, Steve. What's up?”

“Well, uh, I was wondering if maybe Bucky and I could come over to talk.”

She sighs. “I do want to do that, but it's Animal Day.”

“Animal Day?”

“You saw what a good puppy Clint was for Halloween. Long practice in action.”

“Oh. So everbody's an animal today?”

“Yes, and it relaxes them so much that I really hate to unexpectedly ask them to be human.”

“...Could we come over anyway?”

She chuckles. “You want to meet my little pets?”

“Well, they're probably awfully cute.”

“They are.” She tells him more about the rules and how everyone will be behaving if they elect to investigate the new people and how they should be treated. Since they'll all be naked, Steve is torn between hoping they come out and hoping they stay away. When he says so, Bucky laughs.

“C'mon, Rogers! I thought you were an _artist_.”

“Nude studies are completely different from people who want to have sex with you crawling around in nothing but ears and tails, and you know it!”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, and kisses Steve's temple, squeezing him with one arm. “Just remember you can say something if gets to be too much. Natasha won't push you.”

Steve blushes, imagining Natasha riding Bucky, fierce and focused and beautiful, her little hands pinning his big ones to the mattress. “Yeah.”

They don't talk on the drive over, because there's really nothing to say. Bucky holds Steve's hand at every red light, though, and Steve feels like he's glowing. When they reach the house, Bucky laces their fingers together as they walk to the door, where Natasha greets them. She's in jeans and a t-shirt, fiery hair pulled back into a short ponytail. She greets them both with a kiss on the cheek, and leads them into the kitchen, where four clean dog dishes are lined up near six big hanging bottles of the kind Steve associates with hamster cages. The dishes are labled with letter stickers, giving them the sweetly earnest look of children's artwork, and Steve smiles. Natasha smiles back, and gestures for them to sit down.

“They'll need to be fed again, but not for a while, so don't worry about being in the way of the dishes.” 

Bucky nods, and they settle at the table while Natasha pours raspberry lemonade for all of them, having wheedled Steve's preference for it out of him weeks ago. They thank her and sip the tangy pink liquid for a few moments, awkwardness descending. Natasha waves a hand as though clearing smoke from the air, and leans toward them. “Well, you know how we are. If you prefer to think of yourselves as a couple who join in sometimes, that's fine with us. We like you both, enjoy your company, and are sure that you will be excellent in bed.”

Bucky grins. “Well, you know about me.”

She chuckles. “I do. Does Steve?”

“I'm learning,” Steve says, “and I'm not jealous.” He blushes. “I actually... I, uh, I'vedrawnyoutogether.”

“Oh ree-hee-heeally, Dr. Wankenstein?”

“Fuck you, Bucky.”

“I'll need to work up to it, dude, I didn't say you were hung just to flatter.”

Steve's face goes from warm to scalding, and he buries it in his crossed arms, the tabletop cool against his forehead. “Bucky,” Natasha chides, “be nice.” Steve startles a little at her touch, and then relaxes as she strokes his hair. “I would like to see the pictures, though.”

“I'll show them to you,” Steve says, sitting up and glaring sidelong at Bucky. “But not to certain assholes of our mutual acquaintance.”

This of course prompts Bucky to apologize, goofy and genuine at the same time as he coaxes Steve into a kiss. It's light and chaste, but knowing Natasha is watching them makes Steve whimper, flushing for different reasons entirely as he pulls away. Natasha smiles. “May I have a kiss, Steve?”

“Any time,” Steve assures her with complete sincerity, and she smiles, getting up and coming around to his chair. She tips his chin up and leans down, kissing him soft and slow, her tongue just tracing his lip for a moment and leaving him wanting more.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she says softly, and then glances at the kitchen doorway, smiling. “Hey, kitty,” she coos, and Pepper comes crawling in. She's so graceful it makes Steve want to draw her immediately, and looks adorable in her little orange paw-mitts, ears, and tail. She rubs against Natasha's legs and purrs as Natasha strokes her hair.


	20. Animal Day II

Thor loves new people almost as much as he loves Pepper, so when he tears himself away from a game of tug-o-war with Bruce and realizes she's gone, he goes in search. Tony is napping on the bed, and Bruce hops up to join him rather than accompany Thor out. Clint is busily drinking water and will probably follow when he's done, which makes Thor wag his tail as he heads out to the kitchen.

“Oh, look who's decided to join us,” Natasha coos, sitting with Pepper in her lap. Thor grins up at her, nuzzling her leg until she pets him. Pepper pats his face with her paw, and Thor pants happily before going over to investigate the new people. 

Bucky grins down at him. “Hey, boy.” He offers his hand for Thor to sniff, and Thor obliges him before licking it and making him laugh. Bucky tastes good, and Thor wags, which makes all of the humans chuckle. He goes to Steve next, and pushes his head against Steve's hip, breathing in his scent and making him shiver. Thor wags frantically when one delicate hand scratches him behind the ear, and wriggles for joy when Bucky starts rubbing his back in long, soothing strokes. 

Soon, Thor is romping on the living room floor with both of them while Natasha gives Pepper one of her treats before letting her outside again. Thor wants treats too, but wrestling with Bucky is just so much fun. Steve plays too, and they're careful with him because he's little. After a while he has to stop anyway, though. His breathing doesn't sound good, and Thor whines and rests his head on Steve's knee while he takes out an inhaler and takes four big puffs. A moment later, he smiles down at Thor, petting him.

“It's okay, boy. I feel better now.” He leans down and kisses Thor's head, which makes him wag again. “Such a good dog.” Thor licks Steve's hands, making him laugh, and then Clint comes in, butting his head against Thor's side and nuzzling along him to sniff at his balls for a moment before curling around to nuzzle and lick Steve as well, looking around with a tongue-lolling laugh when Bucky gently tugs on his tail.

Soon Bruce and Tony come to join them, and they all go outside again where Thor can retrieve. He can't explain why he loves it so much, but it's a great game and he plays until he's tired, all of the humans throwing the ball in turn. Time doesn't mean anything to a dog, but eventually everyone goes back inside. There's still no trace of Nick, but he never comes out for strangers. He probably hasn't even come out from under the bed, even. Silly cat.

Thor is far from surprised to see Steve pull out his sketchbook as soon as they're mostly still, sketching all of them. He asks Natasha about Nick, and she explains, sprawled on the couch and giving Clint ear-scritchies. Steve clearly regrets missing Nick, but cheers up when Natasha has him help hand out the treats. They're wonderful treats, a piece of mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto, and Thor gobbles his down, careful of Steve's dainty fingers.

After another happy canine eternity of playing and sketching and being petted, it's time for their second meal of the day. Thor charges into the kitchen and scarfs his portion down like the others as Pepper daintily picks at hers and Natasha is just fixing a plate for Nick when he comes slinking up to the kitchen door. He looks around and then flees again, but it's still unprecedented. Nick _never_ comes out for new people, but now he's lurking behind the couch. Natasha puts his food nearby, and Steve goes and sits by it, perfectly still except for when he starts making those kissy little clicks humans use to call cats, because cats are too silly to answer to their names. For a while Thor thinks poor Nick won't get any lunch at all, but then he prowls out just enough, single eye big and wary.

“Nice kitty,” Steve coos. “I'm not gonna hurt you.” He doesn't move a muscle as Nick cautiously starts to eat, and murmurs soothingly to him the whole time. When Nick is finished Steve still doesn't move, and Nick comes prowling out, rubbing along Steve's side and nuzzling his neck, purring loudly. It's so special Thor wiggles like a puppy, but he holds back his bark of joy, knowing how much sudden noises annoy Nick.

Natasha grins from ear to ear, and pets Thor and Clint at the same time because they're the closest to her. Bucky is fascinated, murmuring, “Wow, Steve the beastmaster.”

“Somehow I'm not as surprised as I should be,” Natasha says. “Then again, I have a better idea of how much Nick likes Steve than you do.”

“...Am I gonna get thrown out of I get jealous?”

“Only if you act like an asshole about it, Bucky,” she says, still stroking Thor and Clint.

“Sounds fair.”

“Besides,” Natasha adds, going over to him and kissing him softly, “Steve is crazy about you and we all know it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

By the time Steve and Bucky leave, Nick actually has to have his head and shoulders shifted out of Steve's lap, and he makes that rusty complaining noise of his as Natasha laughs and rubs his bald head to soothe him. Steve blushes badly, cock beginning to tent the front of his pants as he says his farewells before grabbing Bucky and scurrying out.

Thor can't help a mournful little whine when they depart, and Natasha laughs, kneeling to hug him. “There, there, sweetheart.” She kisses his forehead and Thor licks her face, feeling better.


	21. The One Where Bucky Turns Out To Be Serious About Bottoming

Bucky has a tight grip on the wheel and his eyes are fixed on the road like nothing else exists. Steve feels the same. Both of them are silent and focused on getting home _before_ attacking each other. They manage, too. Steve is very proud of them for getting the door shut and locked before Bucky picks Steve up and presses him back against it, kissing him like he wants to climb inside. Steve whines and wraps around Bucky, trembling as his friend carries him to the bed. They've been sharing Bucky's for a while now because it's bigger, and now Bucky presses Steve down onto it, always so gentle with him. Steve coos and kisses him, thrusting up against Bucky and feeling safe with the mattress at his back and Bucky on top of him.

“So fucking beautiful,” Bucky growls, biting the side of Steve's neck and making him pant and gasp in a way that has nothing to do with his asthma.

“You mean it when you said you wanted me to fuck you?” Steve gasps. Bucky makes a strangled little whimper that Steve has never heard and hides his hot face in his shoulder, nodding as best he can. Steve shivers, petting him and thinking what a cute puppy Bucky would make. “Okay,” he says softly. “That's good.” Bucky whines again, and Steve shudders to feel how hard he is.

“I... I wanna get clean for you first, though,” Bucky whispers, trembling.

Steve smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Sounds good, but if you jerk off in the shower I'll be very annoyed.” He's surprised at this way this makes Bucky whine and grind against him. “You like being told that, huh?”

“Yes,” Bucky manages to say, and sits up, bright pink. “I'll be right back, okay?”

Steve grins. “Okay.”

While Bucky is showering, Steve throws back the covers and puts a few towels down on the bed because sleeping in the wet spot is for people who can't plan. That done, he goes to his room to get his measly two toys and the bottle of good lube he splurged on the last time he had money. A lot of people expect a guy like Steve to be a bottom, but he's really closer to being fifty-fifty. Maybe more of a top, actually, and he's taking deep, calming breaths to keep his anticipation from turning into panic by the time Bucky comes out of the bathroom, damp and flushed and entirely too beautiful.

“How do you want me?” he says, and for a moment Steve thinks he's going to need his inhaler. It passes, though, and he tells Bucky to lie on his stomach, arranging two towel-covered pillows under his hips and kneeling between his spread legs.

“I'm gonna start real slow, okay?”

“Okay, “ Bucky says. He and Steve have already talked about what they have and haven't done, so Steve knows that Bucky has had one of Natasha's slender fingers up his ass, but nothing bigger. Now he smiles, and just kneads Bucky's perfect ass for a long moment, making him shiver. He leans in and presses a kiss to one cheek and then the other, along with a few little nibbling bites before he holds Bucky open and leans in. Just his breath on Bucky's hole makes him groan, and when Steve starts licking him he moans so loud Steve hopes the neighbors don't complain. “Ohfuck,” Bucky whines, “oh fuck, _Steve_...”

Steve purrs, and works the pointed tip of his tongue into Bucky, warming and loosening the muscle as Bucky moans, pushing back. “Good?” Steve murmurs, and Bucky mumbles a breathless 'yes,' burying his face in the pillow again as Steve gets back to work. He teases and licks Bucky until he's softly begging for more. Only then does Steve lube his first finger and slide it in. It takes a moment to get the angle right, and then Bucky moans and arches his back.

“Oh fuck yes. God, right there...”

Steve chuckles. “There we are.” He leans in again, licking around his finger as Bucky moans, muffling a high-pitched cry in the pillow as Steve adds his second finger. He twists his hand slowly, feeling Bucky out. He's tight, but gives easily, whimpering and babbling. Steve sighs, rubbing Bucky's back with his free hand and cautiously sliding a third finger in. Bucky moans, sounding lost and desperate, and Steve finally reaches around to squeeze his hard, wet cock. “It's okay if you come now,” he says, and starts licking in time to his strokes as Bucky groans and writhes, making tortured noises before Steve pushes just that little bit deeper and makes him come, rutting into the pillows under his hips and groaning into the one under his face. Steve works him through it and then slaps his ass, making him laugh.

One thing Steve has learned about Bucky since the change in their relationship is that he recovers quickly. Almost before he knows what's happening, Bucky has Steve on his back, grinning down at him. “Your turn, kid.”

Steve grins, stretching his arms and then sliding his clean hand into Bucky's hair and drawing him down. Bucky swears Steve is the first guy he has ever blown, but he has proven to be a natural at it. Now he moans happily as he wraps his lips around the head of Steve's cock and slides down. Steve groans and just holds onto his hair, pulling a little because Bucky likes that. His breath gets short and then shorter before he finally grabs one of the pillows and crams it over his face and into his mouth to muffle something that's almost a scream, coming in Bucky's mouth.


	22. Animal Day III

Nick sniffs and prowls off to sulk after Steve abandons him. He can just fit under the bed and does so now, curling into a resentful ball. He stays that way for a while, and then hears the rustle of Pepper joining him, and soon after feels the delicate touch of one tentative paw.

“Myow?” She asks, and he sighs, wriggling his way back out as she does the same. She smiles and licks his cheek, then nuzzles him, purring. Soon she draws him into a game of mouse-soccer with one of their many toy mice. Tony and Clint play too, sometimes, but right now they're running around outside with Thor, Bruce, and Natasha. So they kill their mouse a few times and then curl up together on the couch , dozing off and not waking up until Thor puts his paws on the couch and tries to lick them and Natasha has to squirt him, because dogs aren't allowed on the couch. Thor whines, and Pepper licks the water off of his face, purring sweetly at him as he wags and grins.

Natasha smiles, petting both of them and then Nick. “Glad to see you out again, kitty boy.” He purrs and nuzzles her hand, shivering as she runs her nails lightly over the nape of his neck. She does it again and he lets out a tiny mew. Soon Natasha has him on the floor, rolling around on his back like he's in heat. Being the oldest he gets hard the slowest, but Natasha just coos and babytalks to him like he really is a cat as she rubs his belly and makes him squirm happily, dignity forgotten. 

By the time she wraps her hand around his cock, Nick is sprawled on his back, purring. Thor barks softly in irrepressible excitement and Nick hisses, imagining his ears flattening a bit and then coming back to a happier position as Natasha keeps stroking him. She giggles, cooing, “Good kitty,” as Nick relaxes again. He lets out a rusty meow and stretches luxuriously, letting out a much more human moan as Natasha rubs her thumb across his tip. “Sweet kitty,” she murmurs, and kisses his cheek. Nick gasps and writhes as she strokes and squeezes, letting out loud, rusty wails as Natasha shifts to use both hands on him, whispering soft praise and covering him in kisses.

By the time Nick comes with a helpless yowl, the others have all gathered around to watch him, and Thor and Bruce lick his face as soon as he opens his eyes to look at them. He hisses and bats at them, but is feeling too loose and warm and loved to really complain. Clint yips and wiggles, everyone begging a little, because Nick has had a treat and they want one too. Natasha laughs softly, petting everyone in turn.

“My good boys and my sweet kitty girl,” she coos, and Nick purrs, curling up and watching as Natasha orders Tony and Thor onto all fours, slicking up Bruce's hard cock and then Clint's. She takes her time with both of them, making them squirm and whine, begging pathetically because dogs have no dignity at all. Natasha chuckles and tells them what good boys they're being as she stretches Tony and Thor open.

“Breed them,” she says, and Bruce and Clint scramble onto them, cramming their cocks in as best they can without using their hands. Thor whines, burying his flushed face in the carpet, and Tony groans, mouth hanging open as Bruce slides in and in and in before finally bottoming out, because Tony is possibly the biggest size queen in the house, and that's up against both girls and Nick himself. He shivers happily, watching Bruce fuck Tony hard and fast, both of them panting and whining, tails twitching with the motion. Clint is going slower with Thor, but they pick up speed, Thor planting his hands on the floor and shoving back, muscles standing out in his arms.. Nick purrs and Pepper mews pathetically, pawing at Natasha and then crawling into her lap to gaze up at her with big, pleading eyes.

“Of course,” Natasha croons, “of course I haven't forgotten you, baby girl.” She shifts, putting her back against the arm of the couch and opening her legs before pulling Pepper's to match. She's soaked and glistening and such a vivid pink against that pale skin. Natasha makes little clicking noises to call Nick over, and when he stretches and crawls to them, Natasha pushes his head down and into Pepper's cunt, making her let out a breathy, human little cry before purring deep in her throat as Nick gets to work. Pepper likes short, gentle, indirect strokes. Where Natasha can take a much more concerted approach from the beginning, Pepper needs to be coaxed along. It's a slow, languorous process, and Nick is good at it. He sinks into his task, listening to the symphony of moans and whimpers and animal noises, Natasha gasping praise and encouragement to all of them as she strokes herself, shivering happily when Nick shifts to lick her a bit as well.

“Take care of Pepper, Nick,” she says softly. “I'll go next.”

Nick shudders, and obeys. By the time Pepper squeals and comes, hard little clit pulsing on Nick's flattened tongue, Natasha is even wetter, and Tony is begging Bruce to come inside him. Clint is fucking Thor through his characteristically long and loud orgasm, whimpering piteously, and Bruce roars, slamming into Tony as Nick licks and sucks at Natasha, tracing the point of his tongue along the edge of her hood and gently pushing back, making her cry out and dig her heels into his back and her teeth into Pepper's neck. He purrs and keeps licking, shivering as the other boys finish and crawl over, nuzzling and pawing at all three of them, a loving and appreciative audience when Natasha screams and comes hard. She doesn't quite squirt this time, but there's an uprush of wetness that Nick swallows up, moaning softly.


	23. The One With The Actual Contracts

On Bucky's next day off, he drives them over to Natasha's house. They've both done some research and Natasha has told them that this first visit will probably involve way more paperwork than sex. In this case these things aren't mutually exclusive, though, and as much as Steve tells himself not to be an overeager jackass, he's still about half-hard when Thor opens the door.

“Good morning!” he booms, and hugs Steve, lifting him a bit off the ground and cuddling him close before setting him down again and leaning past him to kiss Bucky's cheek, beaming at both of them. Steve has to smile back, of course, and he's relieved to see Bucky doing the same. Thor leads them into the living room, getting them settled on the couch where Natasha is waiting for them. Clint is sitting on the floor, resting his head on her knee, and Pepper is between them and Natasha, a sheaf of papers on her lap. She moves over to make room for Steve and smiling at both of them.

“Hey,” Steve says, as Thor vanishes into the kitchen. “Where are the others?”

“Nick has to work, Bruce is in his cage, and Tony is keeping Bruce company.”

“Bruce has a cage?” Bucky asks. Steve isn't sure if he sounds more alarmed or intrigued.

Natasha shrugs. “It's an externalized self-control thing. Sometimes a punishment thing, but today he wanted to be there. I thought we'd go visit him after drinks and a first look at the contracts.” On cue, Thor comes back in with a tray bearing two bottles and a glass for everyone. “There's champagne for those of us who drink it, and an elderflower soda for Steve.” Steve thanks her, and curiously sips the pale gold elixir. The taste is hard to describe, subtle and tangy-sweet and of course, floral. It looks enough like the champagne to make him a bit nervous about a repeat of Halloween, and Pepper smiles. “Don't worry, we'll look after you.”

Steve blushes, and Bucky grins. “I bet you will.”

As everyone sips their drinks, Pepper walks Steve and Bucky through the basic contract for being part of Natasha's harem, as well as the truly enormous list of kinks. Clint is mostly busy nuzzling Natasha and being stroked like his puppy-dog alter ego, but he and Natasha also offer a few insights and explanations. Steve is glad both to have the help, and that there's a Not Sure column he can check, because he has never even heard of some of this stuff. Pepper also explains that the whole collective is fluid-bonded, and that Steve and Bucky can join that as well when or if they feel comfortable.

“We have some friends we play with sometimes, so there's plenty of protection around the house,” Pepper adds, and Steve smiles.

Once they've asked all their immediate questions and checked their way through most of the kink list, Natasha leads them all down to the basement. It's a nice basement, and the main portion where Steve had played poker with the boys is just as he remembers it. This time, though, Natasha opens the door that Steve had assumed led to a storeroom or something. Instead, it's more like a bedroom. Small, with the same soft carpet as the bigger room, and free of any furniture but a coffee table to support a computer, several cushions strewn around the floor, and of course, the cage. It isn't big enough for Bruce to stand up in, but it's a cube about five feet to a side, with a huge, heavy padlock on the door and enough space between the bars for a man to reach his whole arm or most of a leg through. Tony has put a few cushions on top of it and is perched there like a cat, grinning at them as they come in.

“Hey,” Bruce says, shirtless and blushing and utterly adorable where he's sitting lotus in the center of the cage.

“Hey,” Steve answers, going and crouching beside him. “Comfy?”

Bruce blushes worse. “Yeah. I, uh, I got a little nervous. Knowing you guys were coming over.”

“That totally makes at least three of us,” Bucky says, stretching out beside Steve and resting his elbows on one of the cushions.

“Four,” Clint says, following Natasha and cuddling her as she settles next to Bucky, resting an easy and proprietary hand on his upper back that Bucky doesn't object to at all.

“I don't get why shit that's awesome makes so many people nervous,” Tony says, gently banging his heels against the bars. Thor sits down next to Steve, with Pepper in his lap.

“Because we're not all adrenaline junkies like you, you freak,” Bruce says, in a loving way.

Tony laughs, hopping down to cuddle up into Thor's arms beside Pepper. “You know you love it.”

“Yeah,” Bruce says, still a bit flushed. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Steve smiles. 

“Hey, Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Can I draw you?”

There's a general laugh at this, and Bruce shyly agrees. Bucky runs upstairs to fetch Steve's bag, which has his sketchbook in it, and they all lounge around the cage. Steve is completely absorbed in trying to capture the gentle and devilish expression in Bruce's eyes as he and Tony argue some scientific point that Steve will probably never grasp. Something about radioactive decay? Whatever, Steve has more pressing concerns, blending and smearing the shadows of the bars on Bruce's skin, trying to capture the way the cage almost seems to cradle him.

By the time Steve is finally satisfied, both the soda and the champagne are gone, and Bucky and Natasha are softly talking about their shared past.

“So yeah, there was supposed to be this big-ass construction project,” Bucky is saying, vibration coming through his side where Steve is leaning against him. “I go out there and then someone up on the office level takes the money and runs, and we're all left there at the site with stupid looks on our faces.”

“I heard about that case,” Pepper says. “How did you go from that to the Red Room?” Her voice is very gentle, like she's well aware of Bucky's lingering issues

“Newspaper ad. I was fucking desperate, 'cause Steve wasn't on disability yet and we were running out of cash for his meds.” His arm tightens around Steve, and he sets the sketchbook aside to hug Bucky tightly, burying his face in his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters, and Bucky pulls him into his lap, kissing him softly.

“Hey, none of that. We were able to get you a Z-pack with that money, and god knows that lung infection woulda put you in the hospital without it.” Steve doesn't look up, but he can hear Bucky's smile. “Besides, I met Natasha.”


	24. The One Where Natasha Brutalizes Bucky (And He Loves It)

As part of calming Steve down, Bucky tells him a bit more about how good the after-hours sex was and how at this point he really wouldn't take the whole mess back. By the time he has made his point, everyone is hard, and Tony is kissing Bruce through the bars while Pepper nuzzles his back, slender hands resting on his hips.

“Bucky,” Natasha says softly, “shall we demonstrate for the class?”

“Please,” he whimpers, and feels himself blush. Natasha grins. “Everyone who wants to watch come to the bedroom.”

“Jesus, I'm so torn,” Tony says.

“Let's go,” Bruce says, “even if we miss the best parts by making out.”

Tony grins at him and pulls out a key, unlocking the cage. “Come on out, honey.”

Bruce crawls out through the small door and stretches. It makes Steve's lead-smeared little fingers twitch, and Bucky grabs his wrist. “Oh no, you don't. I don't want you dying of blueballs for art.” Steve blushes bright red, but he is rock hard and at his size and in those pants there's no hiding it. Natasha leads another mass migration upstairs, and everyone settles in a semicircle around the huge bed, pulling up various mismatched armchairs and ottomans. Steve shares one of the big chairs with Pepper, who covers his face in little kisses while Bucky and Natasha both strip down. Bucky had really forgotten how fucking good Natasha looks naked. She was a work of art when he met her, and now she has gained a little weight and her skin is aglow with good health instead of being dull with stress. He smiles at her and she smiles back, stepping and up and wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into one of those soft but somehow devouring kisses. He leans into it and moans softly, feeling her soft, soft skin against his own. He does love Steve and the other guys look pretty good to him, but there's nothing like the way a woman feels, and he sighs, nuzzling her neck when she pulls away and breathing in her sweet musk.

“Traffic lights?” Natasha asks.

“Traffic lights,” Bucky agrees. She kisses him again and then tells him to kneel. He drops to the rug and shudders.

“You haven't been forced to disrespect me today, so you don't need to apologize. But I know you liked kissing my feet.”

“I do,” Bucky says softly, and bows his head to press kisses to the tops of her little white feet. “And you're still a goddess.”

“I am still a goddess,” she agrees, sounding amused. “Onto the bed, now.” Bucky gets up and stretches himself out on his back, putting his hands up the way he always used to. Natasha shivers and goes to the closet, coming back with a set of cuffs. “Color?” 

“Green,” Bucky says, shivering. He closes his eyes and hopes he won't come embarrassingly early as Natasha cuffs him to the vertical bars of the headboard. He can't help a little mewling noise as the she tightens the second one, and she smiles down at him.

“You like that, baby?”

“Y-yeah.” Bucky tugs lightly at the restraints, moaning quietly at their secure hold.

“You're going to stay right where I put you,” Natasha tells him, and Bucky whines, feeling wetness gathering at the tip of his cock.

“Yes, ma'am,” he gasps, and she tells him what a good boy he's being, something that always gets him more than it should. He closes his eyes and just lets her reacquaint herself with his body. She kisses and licks and bites him, pinching his nipples until he yelps and then soothing them with her impossibly soft lips. He can hear everyone breathing, and for a moment worries about Steve before remembering that he has his inhaler in one pocket of his old man khakis.

“Ready to go rougher?” Natasha asks, lightly digging her nails into Bucky's chest. 

He groans and pushes up into it. “Hell yes.”

She grins at him. “Still like being slapped around by a beautiful woman?”

“Please.” Bucky's breath catches in his throat, and then escapes in a soft cry when she slaps him across the face. It's pretty gentle, more shock than sting. “Green,” he breathes, and the next one is harder, and the next one harder still. Natasha doesn't stop until his cheeks are stinging and slightly numb. “Oh, fuck...” Bucky whimpers, feeling that same weird and wonderful sinking that's apparently called subspace. It had kind of scared him at the time, but now he welcomes it, drowning in dark sweetness as Natasha bites his inner thigh. He can hear soft moans from around the room, and he wonders what the others are doing. He manages to open his eyes enough to see that Steve is sitting on Thor's lap. His eyes are huge and his legs are wide open, fly unzipped so Thor can rub him through his briefs, the tip of his cock visible over the waistband. He meets Bucky's gaze, looking helpless and sweet, and then Bucky has to look away because his eyes are rolling back in his head as Natasha rubs that spot behind his balls that Steve showed him.

“I want to choke you,” Natasha says, and Bucky groans, pressing into the touch of her fingertips, cock screaming for attention and not getting any.

“Green, ma'am, green...” Bucky has missed this more than he realized and enough that it should probably worry him. But he can't worry about anything right now as Natasha straddles him and puts both those delicate hands around his throat. He groans as she squeezes, the sound getting more and more strained until it's completely cut off. Natasha is ruthless and just holds him there for what feels like forever. Really, it can't be more than ten seconds, but everything rushes back in when she eases off without letting go. He likes the warmth of her hands there as he drags in deep, ragged breaths. “Thank you,” he hears himself moaning, “thank you, ma'am.”


	25. The One Where Everyone Watches Natasha Brutalize Bucky (And Loves It)

Steve can't help but worry about Bucky, but he said he loved it when Natasha did this to him before, and it looks like he still loves it now. Thor murmurs reassuringly into his ear, and Steve shudders, moaning when Thor chuckles and traces the edge with the tip of his tongue before gently sucking on the lobe, beard scratchy-soft on Steve's skin.

“Our mistress takes good care of us,” Thor says, kissing Steve's neck and finally pulling Steve's underwear down to touch him directly. Steve moans, back arching. He can hear the sharp cracks of Natasha's hands landing on Bucky's skin, and those deep, happy groans Bucky only makes when he's really loving something. Steve whines, shaking as Thor squeezes him gently. He just barely manages to get his eyes open in time to watch Natasha push a condom into herself. Steve has never actually seen the internal kind in action before, and scientific curiosity distracts him from Thor's touch for a moment as Natasha straddles Bucky and sinks down, making him wail. There are red hand-prints on his chest and his thighs, and Steve knows his cheeks would be flushed even without Natasha slapping him.

“Fffuck...” Bucky gasps, sounding ragged and overwhelmed.

“You really do have a nice cock, Bucky,” Natasha purrs, riding him slowly, barely rising up at all. “I have to work up to Bruce or Thor, and when I go to someone smaller sometimes I need a finger alongside, but you're just right.”

Bucky lets out a breathy laugh. “But you're not a blonde.”

“Not without my wig, no,” Natasha agrees, grinning down at him before she speeds up. The time for snappy conversation is over, and neither of them manages another coherent word for the next few minutes. That word is an imperious, “Vibrator,” from Natasha, so like a TV surgeon's 'scalpel' that it makes Steve giggle. Clint grins from his spot by the bedside table, opening the drawer and passing Natasha a sleek silver egg. She cranks it as high as it will go, and when she applies it to her clit Bucky whimpers louder than she does.

“Multiple orgasms is the best spectator sport ever,” Tony sighs, and Steve has to chime in with Bruce's breathless agreement as Natasha takes herself through one and then two, using Bucky like a dildo, shuddering and groaning deeply each time. Steve whimpers, shuddering and spurting all over Thor's hand as Bucky finally starts begging Natasha to let him come.

“This time,” Natasha gasps, leaning down to kiss him and then sitting up and leaning back to get the right angle, crying out as she applies the vibrator to her reddened clit again. Steve shudders, watching both of them, and cries out softly when Bucky finally wails and shatters beneath her, whimpering as it goes on and on, hips twitching and pumping in no real rhythm. At last Natasha sets the vibrator aside and catches her breath. “Good boy,” she says, voice hoarse. She kisses Bucky and he whimpers softly, still shaking.

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“You're welcome, sweet boy.” She slides off of him, pulling the condom out and throwing it away. The bed is huge, and Bucky shifts over to the opposite edge after Natasha uncuffs him and gives him a gentle prod. Steve kisses Thor and then gets up, going over to kneel by the bed and lick his way into Bucky's panting mouth. He's too spent to really kiss back, and Steve purrs, nuzzling him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his eye.

“So beautiful,” he says softly, and Bucky shivers. Meanwhile, Bruce is taking advantage of the open bed space to fuck Tony deep and fast, Pepper sliding three fingers into him and lying beside Tony, lazily kissing him as she grinds against his hip. Clint stays in his chair, and there is nothing at all submissive in the way Natasha kneels in front of him, her grin predatory. Clint hasn't even been touching himself, and keens when Natasha swallows him down in one movement.

Steve kisses and pets Bucky as the others fuck around them, Thor kneeling behind Natasha and softly asking permission to fuck her. Steve isn't at all surprised when she gives it, moaning happily around Clint as Thor slides into her wet, open cunt.

“Steve,” Bucky murmurs against Steve's lips, “this is the most awesome mess you have ever gotten us into.”

Steve laughs. “Thanks.” He feels the urge to draw again because everyone is so beautiful when they come. Luckily there are enough bathrooms for everyone to clean up, Bucky and Steve sharing a shower the way they sometimes do at home. Bucky is pretty shaky by the time they come out. Everyone has migrated to the living room, and Natasha is ensconced in the center of the couch, Clint tucked in on one side, Tony on the other.

“There you are,” Natasha says softly. Tony turns around to batten onto Pepper, who was resting against his back, and they both scoot down the couch so Bucky can cuddle up to Natasha. He rests his head on her shoulder and she strokes his hair, telling him how good he was and how much she loves giving him what he needs. He sighs and relaxes into her arms. Once Steve is sure Bucky is comfortable, he goes to the other end of the couch, insinuating himself between Clint and Thor, who hug him, Clint nuzzling into his neck as Thor presses a kiss to his cheek.

They stay like that for a while, a big, happy pile on the couch. And then Thor's stomach rumbles like thunder and Bucky laughs. Natasha smiles, kissing him and then Clint. “Well, I was going to make soup, but things got intense on us.”

“If we're getting delivery I want Thai food,” Tony mumbles, muffled by Pepper's breasts. 

Pepper nuzzles into his hair for a moment and then grabs a pad and pen from the end table. “Thai food acceptable to all parties?”

“I've never really tried it,” Steve admits. Thor hugs him again and then hops up, going to the kitchen and coming back with a takeout menu, walking Steve through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, request anything you want. I cannot promise to do it, but any femdom porn scenario or configuration that you've ever wanted to see will be read through and given due consideration.


	26. The One Where Clint And Natasha Slink Off For Alone Time

Clint likes pad Thai because he's a typical American swine, and because it's delicious. He orders it as hot as they make it, and devours the noodles in a light sweat. As he has tried and failed to explain to Pepper, the burning is part of it. Some people like a delicate balance of the four flavors, and some people like to have their faces blown off.

Everyone is sharing, but Steve doesn't even touch Clint's dish, having to dive for his drink after a taste of Thor's mild red curry. Bucky does a bit better, but has to concede defeat when faced with Bruce's goddamn incendiary regular order.

“Holy hell,” he gasps after gulping down almost half of his beer, “what the fuck is in that?”

“Chiles, mostly,” Bruce says, taking another bite. Clint just shudders, because while he orders 'Thai hot' like a dumb white guy, Bruce orders his curry the way the owner's crazy, masochistic, chili-addicted aunt does.

“Bruce's masochism runs deep,” Tony says, making Bruce roll his eyes.

"And his mouth is coated with wax, I swear to god," Clint adds.

Steve laughs, and devours more mango and sticky rice, having already demolished most of the mi krop and a generous sample of Pepper's mild, coconut-milk-and-chicken soup. Clint feels a strange, motherly urge to see poor little Steve well-nourished, and passes him the last of the chicken satay. He can barely finish it, stomach apparently just as small as the rest of him, and Clint smiles to see him finish off his Thai iced tea and lean on Bucky, who is still picking meat out of his green curry, but definitely slowing down. Even Thor is mid-way through his second curry and no longer bogarting all the spare rice containers. Natasha stretches her arms, leaning over to kiss Bruce's cheek where he's gathering empty cartons.

"Everyone fed?"

"To and past repletion," Tony says, leaning against Bucky from the other side, making them both smile.

Pepper drinks the last of her broth and pecks a little at the mushroom salad she and Natasha are sharing. "Sounds about right," she says, swallowing her last slice.

After lunch the truly bloated sleep it off, Tony and Pepper cuddling up in one of the bedrooms while Steve draws Bruce and Thor. Clint has a scoop of ice cream to take the burning out of his mouth and wanders out of the kitchen to find Bucky stretched out on the floor, dreamily watching Steve. Natasha smiles, putting her finger to Clint's lips before taking his hand and leading him away to the bedroom.

The whole question of primaries in this thing of theirs is kind of hazy, because while Tony and Pepper joined as a couple, she and Natasha adore each other, and Tony and Bruce are so deeply in love it scares them sometimes. Clint was Natasha's one and only in the very beginning, though, and the amount of history between them will always form a special connection. They like to find a moment of alone time now and then. Or at least, initially-alone time. Natasha closes the door, but hangs a yellow scarf over the knob. A red means that those inside want privacy and usually accompanies a locked door for good measure, and a green means that anyone who comes by is welcome to dive right in. Yellow means that interested parties may come in, but must close the door behind themselves and sit quietly until invited to do more.

Natasha flings her robe aside and settles on the bed. "Strip and get the queening stool out of the closet, would you?"

"Your wish is my command, mistress," Clint says, and they both know he's only about one-quarter kidding. The stool is a nice one, padded leather all over so that it's comfortable to sit on, to lie under, and for a third-or-more party to lean against as well. Yet another perk for SHIELD Studios's top model. It's also kind to the bedclothes, so Clint can stretch out in real comfort. He does, once Natasha is comfortably settled, and gets to work. A smother box would terrify him, but this cozy. Clint generally doesn't like not being able to watch the door, but here he knows he's safe. He settles into the musky dark under Natasha, licking and sucking and pressing worshipful kisses to her delicate skin. His hands grip her thighs, keeping track of when he makes them shake and applying that knowledge to his task. Clint loves giving head, sighing and purring as Natasha moans quietly. He's so hard it aches, but he doesn't really notice that, pushing the point of his tongue into Natasha and trembling at the way she cries out.

Clint isn't actually sure how many times Natasha comes, but he knows it was at least twice. He hears the door open and shut somewhere in the middle of things, but of course he can't look up. Not knowing just makes him harder, and he's whimpering when Natasha shifts off of the stool and lifts it up, setting it aside. The fresh air is cold on his slick face, and Natasha smiles.

"Such a good boy," she says softly, and wipes his face off with his own discarded boxers. He glances over and sees Bucky sitting there with Steve on his lap. He grins at them, and then looks back to Natasha.

"And now?"

"Fucksaw," she says, grinning.

Clint grins back, and scrambles to the closet for his personal favorite of their big scary sex toys. "Clint," Steve whispers when he gets close enough, "what the hell is a fucksaw?"

"You'll see!" Clint trills, and pulls it out of the closet, smiling lovingly down at it.


	27. The One With The Fucksaw (And Bucky On Clint Action)

Apparently a fucksaw is an actual reciprocating saw with a dildo instead of a blade. Steve supposes he should have known. Now he just stares wide-eyed as Natasha sits on the edge of the bed and Clint kneels between her feet, gripping the saw's handle like he's holding a gun. Natasha moans softly as he lines it up at a very precise angle and pushes the dildo into her.

"Clint is usually the one to do this," Natasha purrs, wriggling down onto it. "He has the most patience and the best aim." She sighs, getting comfortable and cupping her breasts in her beautiful hands. The breasts are beautiful too, but Steve is more fascinated by the way Natasha touches herself. He still has his sketchbook, and starts to draw Natasha's hands and how they move on her body even as Bucky unbuttons his shirt. The fucksaw is loud as hell and so is Natasha, and with her groaning and wailing and Bucky replicating everything she does to her own nipples on Steve, he has to give up on the sketching pretty quick, dropping the pad to the floor and arching his back to push his chest into Bucky's hands. He tips his head back and then raises it again because he wants to keep watching Natasha, who groans deep in her chest and then calls out a number to Clint. As the sound of the motor gets higher and faster, Steve realizes that it must have been an increase in strokes per second. 

There really is something almost... paramilitary about this, the longer it goes on. Clint's blue eyes are so focused they would look as icy as a sniper's if it weren't for his flushed face and parted lips and his entire aspect of utter devotion. The muscles stand out in his beautiful arms as he fucks Natasha and that's part of what makes Steve cry out as Bucky pinches his nipples. Natasha is completely focused on coming, self-absorbed and ferocious and _beautiful_. She makes a few more adjustments and then her hips start to shudder and rock, and Clint grins up at her.

"Come on my tits!" he says, a breathy half-parody of porn, and Natasha laughs, the sound turning into a loud and desperate howl as she starts to come. Steve has of course heard of squirting and seen the occasional bit of pornography devoted to it, but this is his first real-life encounter with the phenomenon. Natasha's cry goes on and on as she shoots a clear jet that splashes Clint's chest, dripping from his hard nipples as he whimpers and holds the toy in place until Natasha gestures for him to switch it off and pull it out. Steve whimpers and Bucky curses reverently. 

Clint is about as shaky as Natasha as he wipes the dildo off and sets it aside, Steve assumes for a proper cleaning later. Natasha lies back and is silent and still for a long moment, still dripping a little. Clint sighs, and presses a soft kiss to the top of one foot and then the other, making his way up Natasha's legs, slow and sweet and clearly an act of real worship. By the time he's kneeling between her thighs, Natasha is sitting up again. She smiles down at Clint and strokes his hair as he whimpers quietly, licking and kissing her too slowly and lightly to do anything more than soothe. He's so hard it has to hurt, and Steve licks his lips without thinking about it, and Bucky chuckles.

"Hey, Natasha?"

"Yes, dear?" She stretches and purrs like a cat, Clint making a pathetic little noise between her legs.

"I'm pretty sure Steve wants to suck Clint off. May he?" Steve yelps and feels his face turn scalding hot even as his cock twitches.

Natasha giggles. "He may. I'm just going to lie back and watch, but I'm sure Clint will help you out."

"Daisy chain?" Clint asks, and Bucky grins.

"Actually, I've been meaning to make further experiments in how male ass differs from female. For fucking purposes, I mean."

"Well, anything for science," Clint says, eyes gleaming.

There's a brief intermission during which Clint wipes off his chest and then digs out the lube and condoms while Bucky goes to fetch water for everyone. Upon his return he reports that Bruce and Thor have joined Tony and Pepper for what may be a nap or very quiet sex, he's not sure. Clint laughs, and climbs onto the bed. "It's an even bet, with those four." He looks over to Natasha, smiling softly. "How do you want us, ma'am?"

Natasha is lounging off to the side, sipping her water and glowing. "I think you should sit on Bucky's lap. It's lovely to see, and I know how deep you like it."

Clint shivers, and Bucky grins. "Izzat so?"

"Come and find out," Clint says, and Bucky laughs, pushing him down and covering him in kisses before sitting up and pulling Clint into his lap. Clint is one of those people who seem larger than they are, and now he looks almost delicate as he leans back against Bucky, whose lubed and condom-covered cock is grinding between his cheeks, thrusting along his hole again and again, spreading the lube. Steve stretches out on his belly in front of them, and reaches around to help Bucky tease Clint open.

"Mm, he loves that," Natasha says with a sleepy smile. "Any time Clint can be fingered by more than one of us at once is a good time."

Clint whines and shivers, making a little complaining noise when they both slip out. "Sshh," Bucky says, "I'll fix you up." He's very tender about it as he eases the broad head of his cock into Clint, who bites his lip and sinks down and back, opening his mouth again to pant desperately and then keen quietly as Bucky finally bottoms out. "Fffuuck, that's good," Bucky murmurs, head tipping forward to rest on Clint's shoulder as he tightens his arms around his waist. Steve knows just how that feels, how safe and warm. He nuzzles Clint's cock a little bit, but holds off, wanting him to last for Bucky.


	28. The One Where Natasha Blows Steve (And Really Draws It Out)

Natasha is probably done for the day, as far as really active participation goes. The fucksaw tends to have that effect. Still, this is quite the show, and she props up to see it better. Bucky is letting Clint set the pace in that sweet and gentle way of his. He had been so good to her in the Red Room, and he's always so solicitous of Steve that it shouldn't be any kind of surprise. But the way he fits with Clint actually is sort of unexpected. It's like now that Clint seems as delicate as Steve that Bucky finally knows what to do with him. For his part, Steve is stretched out on his belly, moaning happily around Clint's cock. He doesn't take it too deep, presumably in deference to his asthma, because he's fucking his mouth on Clint with that sweet and real hunger that Natasha knows so well. She murmurs about how pretty they are, idly reaching out to pet them as they move together. Clint is beautiful like this, so open and so lost in how good they're making him feel.

"Close, Bucky?" she asks, and Bucky manages a weak nod and a breathy affirmative noise, grinding up into Clint. Natasha chuckles, rising onto her knees to kiss Bucky, stroking Steve's hair as he keeps moving, whimpering through his nose. "Such a good cocksucker," Natasha coos, and Steve lets out a muffled squeak, going bright red but not stopping.

"God, you have no idea," Clint breathes, and then softly begs for permission to come. `Natasha doesn't do this with all her boys and certainly not all the time, but Clint gets a real sense of being good for her when he waits to be allowed.

"Of course, sweet boy," she says. "I want to see it."

That's all it takes for Clint to buck and cry out desperately, clutching at Steve's hair with one hand and at Bucky's arm with the other. Steve whimpers, and stays on Clint for a long moment after Natasha knows he has gone soft. Bucky whines, and grinds deep into him, holding there and trembling. "Oh," he breathes, "oh fuck, oh fuck Clint, can I move?"

"Y-yeah," Clint breathes, and Natasha purrs, sliding a soothing hand up and down his thigh.

"It hurts him, but he likes it."

Steve shudders, sitting up and carefully removing the condom, knotting it and tossing it into the trash as Bucky bites his lip and rocks into Clint, deep and slow. "Y'can go harder," Clint mumbles, and then moans as Bucky takes him at his word. Steve's wide eyes are locked on them as he settles onto the bed again. "Fffuuck..." Bucky breathes, and comes in a long, slow shudder, clinging to Clint. As they catch their breath, Natasha smiles, and beckons Steve over. He comes crawling to her, flushed and shy and adorable.

"Ready for your turn, baby?" Natasha coos.

"Yes, ma'am," Steve breathes, and blushes pinker still. She smiles, pulling him closer and then rolling him onto his back, rubbing slow circles on that little toast rack of a chest. She pinches one tiny pink nipple and he makes a little pained sound, pushing up into the touch. "H-harder?" he asks, barely audible.

"Yes," she says, and pinches both sides with a vicious little quarter-twist that makes him yelp.

"Ahh! Ah, please..." He writhes, clutching at the pillows, and bites his lip, giving her the most perfect, pleading look. Her exhausted cunt clenches around nothing at the helpless noise he makes, and she leans down to kiss him, tongue pushing into his mouth and making him moan.

"Sometime I'll have to get out the clamps and see if I can get you to come this way," she whispers, and Steve shudders.

"He's gotten pretty close," Bucky says, voice soft and a little hoarse.

Natasha glances over and smiles. "Good to know." It's also good to see the way Bucky cradles Clint in his arms. Like a lot of tough boys, Clint always wants to be held after sex, melted down and finally vulnerable. It used to be a lot more difficult to get him that way, and Natasha is glad to see Bucky benefiting from her hard work. He presses a kiss to Clint's temple, with that slightly baffled look people who are usually monogamous get when they find themselves balls-deep in a person who isn't their primary and feeling just fine. Natasha smiles, and turns back to Steve, sucking and biting his neck, milking agonized little sounds out of him and avoiding any contact with his cock, which is turning almost purple now.

"Should I suck your cock, Steve?" she murmurs, and he whines, nodding with a truly endearing eagerness.

"Yes please, ma'am," he gasps, and she smiles. 

"Someone pass me a rubber for Steve?"

Bucky scrabbles around and then finds one, pressing it into her hand, and Natasha tears it open, pinches the tip, and puts it into her mouth, winking at Steve before exhibiting one of her best pornstar tricks, rolling it all the way down to the base in one long slide. Steve lets out a choked little scream and throws one forearm across his eyes, writhing and shaking in a chivalrous bid not to thrust.

"I appreciate good manners," Natasha says, sliding off just enough to speak, Steve's tip just brushing her lips, "but you've waited long enough." She drops back down again, and Steve moans, rocking up and sobbing as she takes him. Steve is pretty big, especially relative to the rest of him, but Natasha has professional experience, and just hums and swallows him down, letting Steve fuck her throat. He's so lost in it that Natasha actually slips a hand down and rubs out a small, sore orgasm while she works him, pushing down enough to kiss his balls as he breaks minutes of breathless silence with a high, broken-off wail. Natasha pulls back as he softens, and Steve whimpers, quivering slightly.


	29. The One Where Steve Fucks Bucky For The First Time

Steve and Bucky don't go home until the next morning, tired and kind of overwhelmed, but in a good way. It's still Bucky's weekend, but Steve has to tear himself away from cuddling with him on the couch to hit an afternoon art class. It's usually one of his favorites, but he can't focus today. He keeps thinking about Bucky, and by the time he gets home again, he feels a little crazy., and Bucky doesn't help at all by opting to chores in nothing but his boxers. Steve stops in the kitchen doorway and makes a little choking noise, just staring, still not used to being allowed to. Bucky looks over, hands still scrubbing the breakfast skillet.

"Hey," he says, going a little bit pink and kind of preening at the same time, cocky and shy at once. Steve's only reply is to go over and wrap his arms around Bucky's waist, nuzzling the smooth skin of his back. He shivers and then gasps as Steve gently bites him. "Uh, Steve?"

"Come to bed," Steve mumbles, biting again.

"Okay," Bucky breathes, sounding slightly giddy, "sure." He rinses his hands and then lets Steve drag him off to bed, pushing him down onto his back and then crawling over him to cover him in kisses and bites. When Steve touches his cock, Bucky whines and scrambles in the drawer beside the bed, pressing the bottle of lube into Steve's hand. Steve grins and slicks his fingers, giving Bucky's cock a few long, loving strokes before letting his fingers wander lower.

He sighs, rubbing and pressing at Bucky's hole, watching his friend writhe. "I want to fuck you." It comes out before he can think better of it, and Bucky actually blushes.

"Please."

Steve pauses even as one fingertip slips into Bucky. "Seriously?"

"Yes, damn it!" He moans as Steve pushes two fingers deep inside him. "Oh, fuck..." He closes his eyes for a moment, mouth going slack with pleasure, and then manages to speak again. "It's what we've been working up to, right?"

Steve shudders, breath worryingly short for a moment. "Yeah." He presses deeper, and Bucky moans softly, hooking his hands under his knees and offering himself up to Steve. It's one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen.. The silliness of it doesn't detract at all, somehow, and Steve can't help murmuring about how he'd compose a drawing of this, and Bucky laughs at him, more beautiful than ever as he tightens around Steve's fingers.

"Rogers, if you're not fucking me within the next minute..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Steve grins down at him, and slips his fingers halfway out to push all four back in up to the first knuckle. All his slender fingers together really are about equal to his cock, and Bucky groans at the sudden thickness. He has taken Steve's toys before, of course, so he's prepared for this. Steve would never hurt him, and tells him so, biting and sucking at Bucky's nipple because he's too fucking short to kiss him and keep his fingers buried as deep as possible. 

"Please, Steve," Bucky whimpers, "please, I wanna feel you."

"You are," Steve teases, but slides his fingers out and rolls on a condom, because he doesn't want to string Bucky out too much. Or himself, come to think of it. He curses breathlessly at the incidental touches of applying lube, and then lines himself up against Bucky, who crunches his abs and cranes his neck to catch Steve's mouth in a hungry kiss as Steve pushes into him. At this point Bucky is so tuned up that it doesn't take much pushing. He swallows Steve's cock up and groans, head tipping back again and out of kissing range. Steve just tries to keep breathing as he sinks into Bucky. From previous experiences with toys he's not expecting to bottom out, but Bucky just wraps his legs around Steve's hips and takes all of him.

"Oh fuck, Steve..." Bucky moans, hands sliding down to Steve's ass, squeezing him lovingly and trying to pull him even deeper. He shudders and sets up a steady rhythm, whining and gasping. Bucky is so tight, so hot and silky and hungry around Steve's cock that it's a struggle not to waste breath moaning. He grits his teeth and whimpers instead. Bucky wants it deep, but thankfully doesn't demand fast or hard, because there's no way Steve can manage that. After a while he just lets Bucky move him, trying to save his strength. Bucky doesn't seem to mind, and Steve whimpers and fights not to come as Bucky groans and squeezes his ass. He covers Bucky's chest in kisses and bites, licking and sucking at that smooth skin. Bucky begs for more and harder, and Steve has a moment of panic before a heavy hand on the back of his head makes him realize that Bucky means the biting. 

Remembering how rough Natasha was with him and how much Bucky loved it, Steve bites hard and holds on as Bucky clenches and jerks under him, making a high, pitiful sobbing sound. It's so thin and lost that it kind of scares Steve, but Bucky gasps, "Again, please!" and something sweeps over Steve. He suddenly feels predatory and in control of this whole uncontrollable situation, and he growls as he stretches up to bite Bucky's throat hard enough to make his breathing loud and constricted as it gets faster and faster. Bucky whines and grinds down on Steve, holding him deep and reaching to touch himself. Steve slaps his hand away, letting go of his throat to bite his shoulder instead, working Bucky's cock with the fast, rough strokes that he likes. Soon Bucky is wailing and coming all over Steve's fingers, moaning and mumbling for Steve to use him, that he wants to feel Steve come inside him and Steve slams into him in a last burst of strength, fucking Bucky hard and fast until he comes so hard he greys out for a minute. Bucky just trembles under him, making helpless little sounds as he catches his breath.


	30. The One Where Steve Doms Tony

Filthy story-time is one of Tony's very favorite things. He says so as he helps the others arrange pillows and cushions on the basement floor, and Bucky flushes bright red. It's fucking adorable. "Cheer up," Tony says, going over to kiss Bucky's cheek and nuzzle his ear. "After story-time you can watch some of us."

Bucky grins. "Awesome."

Tony grins back, and tugs him down to settle into the nest. Nick is still gone but due back soon. Otherwise the gang's all here. Steve tucks himself in under Bucky's other arm, and Natasha looks around to make sure everyone is comfortable and paying attention before turning her head to kiss Pepper's neck and then announcing that they want to hear all about the loss of this latest of Bucky's virginities. Tony _totally_ uses the multiple system, graded according to risk and mess, and taking it up the ass is pretty high on both.

"Well," Steve says, "which of us should tell it?"

"I'll start," Bucky says, still blushing.

"Goddamn, you're cute," Tony says, and Bruce laughs where he's sprawling on Tony's other side.

"Tony, do you have any kind of filter at all?"

"I save for it important shit. You know, funerals, baptisms..."

Bucky laughs, so hey, mission accomplished. "Anyway, here's the story of how Steve swept me off my feet and took my maidenhead or whatever."

Apparently Steve ambushed him at the sink, hauled him off to bed and got really toppy. Most people wouldn't think it to look at Steve, but Tony isn't most people, and he is _really_ looking forward to riding Steve. These kids are seriously overloading his Adorable Meter, and Steve's embarrassment when Bucky shows everyone the bruised-black bite marks really isn't helping.

"Mm. Sounds like you've got some dom impulses after all, Steve," Natasha says, sounding pretty much totally unsurprised.

"Yeah," Steve says. "It kinda scared me."

Natasha nods. "Sometimes it does. How do you feel now?"

"Horny," Steve mutters, and Tony laughs.

"Well, someone said something about a show," Bucky murmurs, looking down at Tony.

"Mistress?" Tony coos, settling onto his knees. Natasha laughs at him and waves her hand. "Go get the green double-ender, you little exhibitionist."

"Yes ma'am!" Tony chirps, and runs upstairs to fetch it and some lube. By the time he gets back, Pepper is naked in the middle of the circle, brightly flushed and obviously getting wet at all the attention. She's also got a thing about being the only one naked, but not so much of a thing that Tony hesitates to ruin it by joining her. Besides, Pepper also has a 'being the only one naked besides Tony' thing, and she greets him with a long kiss. That's the nice thing about being with Pepper. They know each other so well. Natasha lets them make out for a bit, but then demands the dildo and lube. Steve's eyes seem about the size of dinner plates, and Bucky looks stunned as Natasha covers her hand and the toy in lube, softly explaining that Tony and Pepper are going to be fucking each other in the ass. Tony grins at his audience, and then moans softly, eyes half-closing as Natasha works three fingers into him.

"Tony is easier to get started, because he's a slutty little size queen. Aren't you, darling?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tony breathes, groaning when she gets a little rougher, really stretching him out while she tells the others all about what a slut he is, and how he can take almost anything with enough time to adjust. It's always humiliating and therefore always hot, but there's really something about this time. When he opens his eyes and sees Steve trying to stare into his fucking soul he moans, and keeps their gazes locked as Natasha eases the larger end of the dildo into him. Steve blushes bright red but doesn't look away.

"Now," Natasha is saying, "Pepper is more delicate." She idly moves the dildo in Tony with one hand as she fingers Pepper open with the other. "She loves having something huge up her ass too, but she needs to be coaxed." There's a little whimper from Pepper, and one of those low rumbling noises Bruce makes at times like this. Tony shivers, just relaxing until Natasha can slide the smaller end into Pepper. Pepper lets out one of those soft, sighing squeals, and Bruce moans, softly asking Natasha if they have her permission to touch her toys.

"Yes, my sweet monster," she says, "all of you may touch my toys while they fuck each other."

Tony groans, and starts rocking, the soft, smooth skin of Pepper's ass brushing against him as they both take it as deep as they can, moaning and gasping. Bruce muffles Pepper with what sounds like a rough kiss, and Tony looks over his shoulder to see Clint pressing a line of kisses down Pepper's spine. He bites at both of their cheeks, and leans in to rim them around the dildo. Someone makes a helpless, choking noise, and then Steve is suddenly kissing him. Tony sighs and melts into it, loving the way Steve plunders and fucks his mouth.

"Slap him," Natasha says, and Tony moans, opening his eyes again as Steve pulls away, looking conflicted. Tony hates that look, because it always happens when he's not getting some awesome kinky shit.

"You heard the lady," Tony says, closing his eyes and gasping as Pepper pushes particularly hard. "My left, your right is my best side."

"Okay," Steve says, and hauls off and really slaps him. Most people who are unsure about this kind of thing pull the first one, but not Steve, and Tony moans, legs spreading further of their own accord as his back arches. "Color?" Steve asks, calm but tense.

Tony chuckles. "Emerald, baby. Hit me again."


	31. The One Where Steve Fucks Thor

Steve really isn't sure how to feel about this, but his cock and Tony each get a vote too, and they've ganged up on him. He has no idea why this is so good, but the shock of each impact shivering over his skin, and the loud crack of skin on skin and the way Tony looks at him, lips parted and cheeks red... all of it is going to haunt his dreams. He pauses, cupping Tony's jaw to inspect him for actual damage, and he moans, turning his face and licking Steve's palm. His beard prickles against the sensitive skin and Steve shivers.

"God, Tony..."

"I feel fuckin' great," Tony gasps, and then bites his lip and groans as Pepper grinds back, shoving the dildo harder into both of them. "Pepper..." He drags in a deep breath, shuddering, and Steve glances past him to see Bucky cuddled up to Pepper, murmuring into her ear as the fingers of one hand deftly slide over and over her clit. They're beautiful together, and so is Thor as he kisses a line up Pepper's spine. Bruce meets Steve's eyes and grins, digging his nails into the spot where Tony's thigh meets his ass and making him whimper.

Natasha purrs, lounging back and stroking herself with one hand, the other braced on the floor. "Too much is never enough for Tony."

"Right as always, ma'am," Tony chirps, a little breathless, and looks up at Steve with those wide, dark eyes. "Couple more?"

"Does that actually mean two?" Steve asks, and Tony grins.

"Well, maybe four. I'm pretty sure it would turn into bad pain after half a dozen, though. Oh, and not three, 'cause then I'd be uneven."

Steve chuckles, caressing Tony's reddened cheek. "Okay." Tony yelps when Steve's hand flashes away and then comes back in another hard slap, and the sound deepens to a moan as Steve gives him three more. When he stops it's just instinct to kiss Tony, and to tell him that he's a good boy. Tony just mewls instead of making any smart remarks, melting into the kiss and then moaning as Pepper speeds up again. Bucky groans and kisses her again, swallowing the sound when she suddenly freezes and cries out, her whole body shuddering. Tony whines, and looks beseechingly at Natasha, who chuckles. "Ask Steve, I'm busy."

"Steve, I need to come," Tony whimpers, and Steve shudders, cupping his face in his hands and kissing him.

"Okay," he breathes when their lips part, and then slides a hand down over Tony's leaking cock, making him moan and then whine as it keeps moving and cups his balls. Steve can feel the middle of the dildo between Tony and Pepper, and he reaches further to just touch Bucky's hand for a moment before starting to jerk Tony off in earnest. Bucky is tickling Pepper into a second orgasm, and Natasha groans, rubbing herself through her climax and then offering her slick fingers to Clint, who whimpers happily as he sucks them clean. Tony shakes and wails, coming all over Steve's hand like Natasha's orgasm was a signal. Steve shudders, working him through it and then kissing him again before looking up to watch Bucky bite Pepper's shoulder as she cries out, the sound a lot like Tony's but higher pitched. Bucky groans and Steve feels a surge of happy warmth that seems to fit right into the space where jealousy would go.

"Goddamn," Bucky breathes, after Pepper is done coming for the second time, "I am so not gay."

Thor laughs at him. "Of course not."

Steve just grins. He's so hard he aches, but first he has to kiss Tony some more, and to help him ease off of the dildo. His thighs are trembling, and he crawls forward to cuddle Steve, all warm and sticky and completely unrestrained. It's adorable, and Steve hugs him tightly, looking over to Natasha. She smiles. "You've taken such good care of my toy, Steve. I'm impressed."

Steve blushes and squirms. He feels strange, hot and confused and desperate. Tony whimpers, mumbling, "fucking beautiful, I knew it, knew you would be fucking amazing...." into Steve's ear, making him wriggle and laugh.

"Th-thank you, ma'am," he says, and groans as Tony rubs against him.

"Tony, come here for snuggles," Natasha says, holding out her arms. Tony kisses Steve softly and then crawls over to her. "Thor, present for Steve," she continues, holding Tony close and nuzzling his hair. Steve feels like he's going to choke on his own tongue as Thor comes around the others to arrange himself on all fours, back arched and legs spread. "Order him into another position if you'd rather," Natasha says, and Steve nods.

"It's one hell of a view, Thor," Steve says, voice hoarse with arousal and nerves, "but I think it'd be better if you rode me."

Thor sits up and smiles. "Okay," he says, and ranges himself over Steve, holding out a hand without looking, knowing that someone will press a condom into it. Bruce does, and Steve takes a deep breath, glancing over to make sure he can reach his inhaler if things go south before watching Thor roll the condom onto him. Thor grins, sunny and sweet, and pushes lube-slicked fingers into himself, sighing. "Soon," he promises Steve, and Steve laughs, throwing his forearm over his eyes and just breathing. His heart is racing, but he feels okay, and he groans long and loud and deep as Thor slides down onto him. All that heat and weight and strength, holding Steve here as Thor's hole devours him, tight and slick and so hot. He takes all of Steve in one perfect slide, and Steve grabs him by the hair, hauling him down to kiss him.


	32. The One Where Nick Gets Back And Wants His Chance With Steve

Thor pants and moans against Steve's mouth, both of them too keyed up and sloppy to kiss properly anymore. He's used to keeping his weight off of smaller partners, and sits up when his arms start to get shaky, using his legs to grind up and down on Steve, who moans and flings his arm across his eyes again.

"Nipples, Thor, "Natasha drawls, and Thor glances over, grinning.

"Yes, goddess," he says, and then leans down again, sucking and licking as Steve mewls and writhes. Thor loves doing this for anyone, loves the hard, pebbled flesh on his tongue, and after a while Steve is sobbing and clutching at Thor's hair, too wild to worry about pulling it. Thor moans, and clenches hard around Steve's cock. "Yes," he growls to Steve, and bites him just to hear him whimper. His eyes roll back in his head, and when he can see straight again he looks over at Natasha.

"Ma'am," Steve gasps, wincing and bucking up as Thor squeezes him again, "ma'am, may I come?"

"Yes, darling," Natasha purrs, and Steve clutches at Thor's thighs, whimpering as he rocks faster, watching that angelic little face.

"Please, sir," Thor says softly, leaning down so that his hair brushes Steve's face, "please, I want to see you come." As he suspected, there's no way Steve can resist this, and he cries out, digging his nails into Thor's skin as he shakes his way through his climax. Thor grins down at him at last. He's still hard, but that doesn't matter. Someone will take care of him. In fact, Clint does while Natasha cuddles Steve and murmurs into his ear.

With Steve and Bucky now firmly entwined into their group, they spend every free moment over the next two days touching and tasting and fucking their beautiful new boys within an inch of their lives. That's why everyone is there when Nick gets back, asleep in a big pile on Natasha's bed even though Steve has a morning class and Bucky and Natasha are both supposed to work early. Nick frequently comes back at horrible hours, and there's a standing policy not to wait up for him or even to go get him. Thor is pretty sure that his solitary journeys from the airport are valuable decompression time. Now Thor opens his eyes to see Nick creeping into the bedroom, freshly showered and wrapped in the plaid bathrobe that makes him look more like someone's grumpy dad than ever. Thor smiles, and Nick glances at Steve, who's cuddled up between Tony and Clint, to Bucky, who's holding Natasha while Bruce mumbles and snuffles into the back of his neck, and then back to Thor, glaring.

"I can't believe you opened our presents without me," he grumbles, crawling next to Thor and cuddling in against his chest. Thor chuckles, holding Nick close and nuzzling his bald head.

"We couldn't help ourselves, papa bear," Thor says softly. "How can we make it up to you?" They wouldn't have slept with Bucky or Steve if Nick was going to _really_ object, but after a long flight Thor can play along.

"Mmm. I demand one backrub, and the chance to fuck Steve brainless on my own. Y'all can watch, though."

Naturally, only one of these things can be accomplished right now, but Thor gets to work on it. Bruce gives the best massages out of all them, but Thor likes to think of himself as a respectable second, and Nick purrs and groans softly as Thor uses all the strength in his hands to work the knots out of his neck and shoulders. Nick worries a lot, and Thor can feel it now. It takes a long time, but he doesn't give up until all the muscles are loosened and Nick is making a happy little humming noise into the pillow. Thor beams, pressing a kiss to the base of his skull and then working down his spine to his lower back. Thor kisses the various old scars he finds on the way, and works out all the tension by Nick's tailbone before continuing down to knead Nick's ass, making him shiver and sigh.

"Mmmaking me remember why I put up with you people..."

"Glad to help," Thor says, covering the back of Nick's neck in soft kisses, hands sliding up his sides. "We missed you."

"Missed you too," Nick says softly, and Thor ranges over his back and nuzzles along his cheek, coaxing him to turn his head enough for a kiss. He lingers like that for a while until he starts to worry about undoing his work on Nick's neck, yawning and settling beside him again.

"I love you, Nick." Direct declarations often make Nick squirm, and now is no exception. It's cute, though, and Thor hugs him, murmuring that he doesn't have to say it back, even though he does, a moment later. Because he's Nick, and he's brave and fair-minded. Thor kisses him again, and they cuddle into the pile and slowly drift to sleep.

In the real morning, everyone is as delighted as Thor to see Nick back, and over breakfast Nick announces his intentions for Steve, who blushes badly and then grins. "Sounds good to me, sir."

"All I ask is that you wait for me to get off work," Bucky says, and Natasha laughs.

"I'd never let them deprive you like that, dear," she says, and Thor laughs, just because he's happy. He kisses Natasha and Bucky goodbye, and spends the day helping Bruce and Tony with science while Nick rests and Pepper goes over the household accounts and takes calls from Natasha during boring stretches at work while Clint rubs her feet and fetches things for her.


	33. The One Where Bucky And Natasha Wash Steve For Nick

Steve has to use his inhaler on the bus home, so dizzyingly excited. He has learned a lot about himself lately, and is no longer surprised at how much the idea of being watched appeals to him. He also has a large sketchpad that works to cover the tent he starts pitching at the thought. No need to traumatize any children or alarm any old ladies. There seem to be neither on this bus, but the principle of the thing is what matters. Finally he can get up and leap off the bus steps, ignoring the twinge in his ankles as he runs up to the door and then stops, standing on the porch and hitting his inhaler again. He can't even feel pathetic about it because he's going to fuck Nick and it's going to be amazing.

The door pops open and Tony sticks his head out, grinning. "Step into our parlor, kiddo."

"You're a menace to society, Tony."

"Of course. Society needs to be menaced. C'mere and give us a kiss." Steve lets Tony pull him close and kiss him in the doorway before drawing him into the house and shutting it behind them. "Now," he says, a little breathless as he pulls away, "I know you really want to get started with Nick, but Natasha and Bucky aren't back yet, and you know the plan."

"Yeah," Steve says, grinning up at him. "I can wait."

"Wonderful. Should we feed you?"

"We should," Steve says, setting his bag down and going into the kitchen where Thor and Clint are already in the middle of preparing a truly heroic amount of sandwiches. They grin at the sight of him and each give him a kiss of greeting before Thor arranges a turkey sandwich on a plate for him. Halfway through it, he asks where the others are, since Bruce and Nick are nowhere in sight and Pepper was supposed to have the day off.

"Pepper had an office emergency," Tony says, snagging a sandwich of his own and sitting with Steve. "She ought to be back soon, though. Bruce and Nick are having a nap, because Nick is an old man and needs to keep his strength up."

Steve nods. Bucky and Natasha are both still at work, of course. He kind of feels like crawling in with Bruce and Nick after he finishes his food, but he's shy, too, and might be too nervous to even doze. Instead he settles on the couch and draws, after making sure that Thor and Clint are fine without assistance. His homework is already mostly done, so he settles into drawing bizarre little cartoony creatures and UFOs, and a naked woman who looks like a heavier Natasha, strutting away from the viewer with a backward glance partially obscured by an elaborate mask.

"Nice," Natasha purrs, looking over his shoulder, and Steve jumps and lets out a very loud and embarrassing squeak. He can hear Bucky laughing, and he turns to glare at both of them where they're both leaning on the back of the couch.

"Are we ready for our after-school activity?" Bucky coos, and Steve sticks his tongue out at him. Bucky laughs, leaning down to kiss Steve for a long, dizzying moment before he pulls away, grinning. Steve can feel himself blushing, and his heart is beating almost fast enough to worry him. "Mind if I carry you, baby?" Bucky asks softly, and Steve shakes his head, reaching up like a child. Natasha smiles, and strokes his hair once Bucky has picked him up.

"Nick is freshening up, but he'll be right with you."

"Hadn't I better do the same?" Steve asks, and shudders as Bucky buries his face in his neck, breathing deeply.

"Smell pretty good to me."

"Yes," Natasha says, "but if he wants to wash up before being with Nick, we can help."

"There's an idea," Bucky purrs, and Steve shivers, letting them carry him to the nearest bathroom and set him on the edge of the tub where they tenderly undress him, Natasha kissing his blushing skin as they reveal it. 

"So pretty," she says softly, and Steve whimpers. Bucky smiles and wraps a towel around his shoulders to keep him warm as Natasha runs some water into the tub. It won't be a full bath, she explains, and helps Steve into it when the water is only a few inches deep. It's warm, though, and Steve just melts, letting them bathe him with warm washcloths like some kind of virgin sacrifice. "We need to gang up on you sometime," Natasha says, kissing the nape of Steve's neck. "Gently."

"A-all of you?" he squeaks.

Natasha chuckles. "Well, I was thinking of Bucky and me, but we can always arrange something."

"Okay," Steve breathes, and moans as Bucky pinches his nipples.

"Now that we've got you nice and clean and hard," he says, "I think it's time to serve you up to Nick." Steve lets Bucky scoop him up and dry him off, and keeps his eyes closed and clings as Bucky heads for the bedroom. "You okay, kid?" he murmurs, too quiet for Natasha to hear where she's following behind them.

"Yeah," Steve murmurs, opening his eyes,"just kinda nervous."

Bucky stops and kisses him. "We'll take care of you," he says softly, and all three of them go into the bedroom together. All the others are arrayed in their best viewing positions, eyes bright with interest. Nick is sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. Dressed in a plaid bathrobe, he looks absurdly domestic, smiling and beckoning them closer.


	34. The One Where Nick Gets His Chance With Steve

Nick starts by just pulling the kid into his arms. Steve is nice to hold, small and sweet and delicate. He whimpers and presses close as Nick runs his hands over that flawless almost-actually-white skin. Sometimes he does get a little bit tired of his personal blizzard, but right now he wouldn't change Steve for anything. He just holds him for a long time, petting him and covering that pretty little face with kisses before rolling them over and bracketing Steve against the mattress.

"I've been waiting for my chance with you," he says softly, and Steve squirms and blushes and it may be the cutest thing ever. Nick has been intending to take control with Steve all along, but he's so sweet and so small and so shy that it resolves the question of style immediately. Sometimes Nick likes to take Tony apart, to string him along until he cries and to whip him until he begs. But Steve doesn't bring that out in him. Steve makes him want to be tender, to cosset and spoil this sweet young thing. He says so, speaking softly into Steve's little pink shell of an ear, and Steve blushes and squirms, whining sharply when Nick licks him.

"Please, sir," he whimpers, and Nick nibbles at the corner of his jaw.

"Mm. So pretty," Nick purrs, and covers Steve in kisses, hands running over smooth skin and the hard angles of all Steve's delicate and protruding bones. There are a few dark freckles here and there, like punctuation, and Nick rolls Steve onto his belly so he can connect the dots on that narrow back with his tongue. Steve was already blushing, and now it spreads down over his shoulders. Nick bites the border between red and white, and Steve cries out and clutches at the pillow. He's so easy to move, so light and flexible and willing. Nick puts him on his back again and Steve stares up at him with those big blue eyes. Sometimes blue eyes look like empty glass to Nick, but Steve's are beautiful. He kisses the corner of one eye and murmurs, "You've got these angel eyes, baby. Sky blue."

"Sir..." Steve is melted by now, and he just moans when Nick pins his wrists over his head with one hand. 

Nick kisses him, free hand spreading out over those birdlike ribs. "Want me to fuck you, baby?"

Steve shakes all over, legs wrapping around Nick's hips. "Yes, sir," he gasps. And then gasps again in a bad way, letting out a little wheeze. Nick keeps holding him because being suddenly let go makes a lot of his lovers freak out, but looks to Bucky and holds out his free hand.

Totally wrapped up in Steve, Nick hasn't actually kept track of the peanut gallery's actions, but he knows Bucky is nearby. Even with Natasha on his lap and biting his neck, Bucky is watching close enough to be moving almost before Nick finishes glancing toward him. He digs the inhaler out of Steve's bag and passes it over, and Nick holds it to Steve's mouth.

"Two or three," Bucky says, and Nick carefully feeds Steve one puff, and then two. He lifts the inhaler from Steve's lips.

"Another?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve says. "Thank you, sir."

"Any time, baby," Nick says softly, giving him another puff and then leaning down to kiss the bitter medicine taste off of his lips. Steve sighs through his nose, breathing easy and even again, flexing his delicate wrists in Nick's grasp and whimpering when it doesn't give. "So, where were we?" Nick holds his hand out again, trading the inhaler for lube. Steve moans softly and Nick kisses him again. Slicking his fingers with one hand is tricky, but this is far from being Nick's first goat-rope, and soon he's swallowing Steve's helpless little groans as he works one finger into him. He's tight and fever-hot, and Nick shudders, exploring him in gentle circles. It's nice to feel how easily Steve opens up, how much his reptile brain really does trust Nick not to hurt him. He murmurs into Steve's pretty mouth that he's a sweet boy, and about how much he loves touching him.

Steve tries to say something in the same vein, but Nick pushes a second finger into him and turns his words into a pathetic little sobbing sound. Those skinny legs grip Nick tightly, and he purrs, nibbling Steve's ear again he stretches him open. He isn't anywhere near being the biggest cock in the collective, but he has never really had cause for insecurity, either. The rest of Steve's body is so delicate that even with him so willing and open the urge is to take no chances.

"Please, sir!" Steve finally cries, voice cracking as he writhes under Nick, "Please," he whimpers, repeating it over and over as he struggles to rut against Nick's belly, biting his petal of a lower lip, blue eyes huge and needy.

"Yes, baby," Nick says, kissing him. "Anyone wanna help me on with my raincoat?" he asks, glancing at the others. Clint laughs, telling him how fucking cheesy he is as he kisses Bruce's cheek and gets out of his lap, leaving him comically bereft as he squirts lube into the condom and rolls it over Nick's cock, giving him a loving squeeze as he slicks up the outside and kisses Steve's chest. He lingers over it, nuzzling along until he can bite one little pink nipple and make Steve yelp, his fingers still stroking Nick. "All right," Nick finally growls, "Thanks and out of the way, boy."

Clint just laughs, kissing him and going back to Bruce, cuddling into that hairy chest and biting his neck. "It's okay, monster," he says as Nick lines up against Steve, "I'm back."

Nick chuckles, and pushes into Steve, who swallows him up inch by inch and stares up into nothing with huge eyes, mouth half-open in shocked silence.


	35. The One Where Thor Fucks Nick

Steve can't last long. Not with Nick holding him down and filling him up. He also can't stop blushing at the high-pitched and helpless noises Nick is pounding out of him, cock working so deep and so slow. Nick fucks like he has all the time in the world, and like he wants to take Steve apart but to do it without hurting him. There's really nothing to do but hang on and let out every desperate sound. He whines and mewls and moans, forgetting to worry about how ridiculous he sounds as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby," Nick murmurs into his ear, beard gently scratching and making Steve shudder and groan, "that's it."

Steve would be worrying about lasting if he could worry about anything, but as it is he just wails and comes all over Nick's belly, bucking and writhing for so long that he's completely out of breath by the end of it, and just clings to Nick, gasping and hiding his face in that broad chest. For a long time there's nothing but the beating of Nick's heart and his own frantic breathing, and then Nick is cupping the back of his head and guiding his mouth to one dark, pebbled nipple, murmuring for Steve to suck him. He's still hard, and Steve moans, clenching around him.

"I, uh... I don't know if I can... yeah. Sorry," Steve mumbles, guiltily looking up at him.

"Don't be silly," Nick purrs. "What's the point of having so many of us if you're gonna worry about that?"

"So who do you want, papa bear?" Natasha asks, sounding amused and a bit breathless. Steve can't see what's going on, but the last time he checked Natasha was on Bucky's lap, and he shivers to think of the possibilities.

"Who wants me?" Nick asks, and Steve giggles a bit through his nose, still suckling. Nick chuckles, petting him.

"I would greatly like to fuck you," Thor says, "and if we put you on your back, Steve can keep doing what he's doing."

Steve blushes, but lets go and carefully wriggles off of Nick's cock, hissing a little as it comes free. Nick kisses him deeply, and then eases onto his back, grumbling a bit as he gets comfortable and strips off the used condom, tossing it into the bedside trash can. Natasha smiles fondly at him, even as she rolls a condom over Bucky's cock, making him whimper. "Comfortable, papa bear?"

"Yeah," Nick says, and then looks to Thor, holding out his arms. Steve cuddles in against his side, kissing the scars on his chest as Thor arranges a wrung-out Tony in Pepper's arms. He kisses them both and then comes over to settle between Nick's legs, grinning down at him. Nick favors him with a cranky glare. "Lube up and get in, dammit."

"You're so romantic," Thor coos, and Steve passes him the lube. "Thank you, little one," he says softly, and Steve blushes, hiding his face in Nick's chest as Thor starts to gently open him up, drawing out low growls and deep, formless noises. Steve whimpers, and gently bites before latching onto the other nipple, making Nick moan softly before Thor pushes into him and turns the sound deeper and rougher as Nick writhes slowly, panting softly as he works his way down to the base of Thor's cock. It takes a good long while, and Steve whimpers and blushes when he glances down to see how they fit together.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Natasha says softly, and Bucky lets out a desperate moan that makes Steve look up to see Natasha sinking down and back onto him as he grips her hips and whines pathetically. Steve shudders, and bites Nick, making him twitch and gasp. "You like seeing Bucky this way, don't you?" Natasha asks, and Steve nods, blushing again. Natasha laughs, and then starts really concentrating on fucking Bucky senseless. Steve shudders as Thor starts doing the same to Nick, slow and deep and hard. Nick moans softly, and holds Steve's mouth to his chest, murmuring incoherent praise and stroking his hair with weak and clumsy hands.

Steve melts into his task, worshiping Nick's skin with lips and teeth and tongue. He's just dreamily wondering which colors he would need to mix to get this exact shade of warm, soft, gold-tinted brown, when soft skin and body heat against his back make him flinch in surprise.

Pepper chuckles into his ear. "Don't worry, it's only me," she says, and runs her hand down his side as she cuddles closer. Steve sighs and relaxes, shivering as Pepper murmurs about how sensitive Nick's tits are and how much he's loving this, pausing now and then to lick or nibble, making Steve shudder all over as his cock valiantly struggles to get hard again.

Nick comes at last, groaning long and low, and then grunting softly with each of Thor's last thrusts. Steve shivers and squeezes Thor's perfect ass as he comes with the loud and shameless moan that Steve already loves so much. Pepper slides her hand over his own, and giggles.

"Anyone still need an orgasm?" Natasha asks, sounding as though she's offering tea and cookies. Steve laughs, and Thor joins in once he catches his breath. It proves contagious, and soon everyone is on the bed, an enormous happy naked pile, laughing until their stomachs hurt. Steve starts to wheeze and has to use his inhaler again, but it's totally worth it. As they finally start to quiet down, Natasha speaks again. "Bucky, do you and Steve want to be part of the next Animal Day?"

"Could be fun," Bucky says, shrugging. He's a few bodies away from Steve, but they can make eye contact easily. "Steve?"

"I've been meaning to ask you. I think it'll be great. Though I might need clothes, you know how cold I get."

Natasha smiles. "We'll think of something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader poll time! If you care about what kind of pets Steve and Bucky play, please weigh in. Adorable puppies and kitties are the usual, but Clint sometimes plays a bird, so there's room for creativity. <3


	36. Animal Day IV

Bucky still isn't sure what kind of animal he wants to play. Steve is doing his first run as a cat, not sure he'll be up to all the rough-and-tumble of the puppies, and Bucky isn't sure if he wants to be another cat in solidarity, be a puppy because he likes dogs, or to be a weirdo like Clint, who is apparently going to be in bird mode for the day. He'll be borrowing Bruce's cage, and also wandering around free for some of his time, presumably to collect treats and maybe preen the others. It'll probably be cute as hell.

In the other room Steve is working on a surrealistically colorful still life, turning their humble fruit bowl into a chaotic neon wonderland that makes Bucky think of that dude who did the huge painting with like, three panels of crazy hell or whatever.

"Hey, Steve?"

He looks over with a sweet smile and a streak of green across the bridge of his nose. "Yeah?" He's actually gained some weight. Not much, but enough for Bucky to feel and for Steve to notice on the scale. Bucky smiles back, pulling up the second chair and sitting down beside him.

"Am I more of a puppy or a kitten?"

Steve laughs, and Bucky joins in because he said that about as seriously as another guy might ask about joining the priesthood. "I think you should just be a puppy," Steve says. "Sometimes you're pissy like a cat, but you act more like a puppy when you're around Natasha."

Bucky blushes and squirms. "Yeeaah..."

Steve grins at him, dabbing a little more green onto his brush. "It's adorable."

"Should I text her?"

"Yeah, dude. She's gotta buy the ears."

After way too much deliberation, Bucky just sends, 'woof,' and blushes like an idiot when his phone rings. It's Natasha, of course, and she lets him know that she will be happy to get some nice ears and a dish for her new puppy.

"Thanks," he says softly, and they talk for a while about nothing while Bucky watches Steve paint. Once Natasha hangs up, Bucky wanders back over to find the picture nearly finished. "Gonna bring any of this with us?" They'll be spending the night before Animal Day at Natasha's house, and Bucky isn't sure Steve can survive an afternoon and its evening and then Animal Day itself without art supplies.

Steve smiles like he knows what Bucky is thinking. "Probably not the paint. I'm not at that point with anyone yet, and it's the messiest, anyway. I'll just sketch. Until I'm a kitten." He blushes, and Bucky grins, leaning over his shoulder to kiss him.

"The cutest kitten."

Bucky's words absolutely prove prophetic. Nick and Pepper are gorgeous, but when Steve tries on his blonde ears, mitts, and tail and comes walking out of the bathroom wearing them, a shy smile, and nothing else, he may be the most adorable thing Bucky has ever seen in his life. It's late afternoon and they're all gathered in Natasha's bedroom, watching Steve model. He blushes and ducks his head, hugging his skinny little ribs.

"You. Are. _Adorable_ ," Natasha tells him, and Steve mews, purring when she pulls him into her arms (and his head right into those amazing tits, the lucky little bastard) and rubs his back. He wriggles a little, and Bucky is fascinated by the way it makes his golden tail twitch.

"Thank you, ma'am," Steve whispers, and whines when Natasha kisses him.

"Always, kitten," she says softly, and Steve's flush deepens as Bucky glances down to see that Steve is half-hard. He smiles. "So excited already," Natasha coos, reaching down to squeeze him gently, making his knees tremble as he leans into her. "Why don't you get out of your nice new things and join me in bed?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Steve whimpers, and he scrambles out of his kitten gear, putting it down in a neat pile out of the way. Natasha grins and takes his hand, leading him to the bed, where everyone else is lounging in barbaric splendor.

"I think I"m just going to pet you while Bucky tries on his ears," Natasha says, spooning up behind Steve and sliding a hand over his chest and then down his belly to start giving him one of those slow, exasperating handjobs of hers. Steve whimpers and wriggles, but manages to keep his eyes open to watch Bucky gather his things. Bucky winks at him, and goes into the bathroom to change, for effect rather than modesty. Which basically doesn't exist here, and it's awesome.

With the door shut behind him, Bucky can look at himself in the mirror and admit to his reflection that he is maybe kind of nervous about being a cute little puppydog in front of god and everybody. Still, he's not bad-nervous. He doesn't actually think they're going to laugh at him. Well, not in a mean way, anyway. He chuckles, and gets his clothes off, pretty close to hard himself from watching Natasha with Steve.

Like everyone else, Bucky's mitts and ears basically match his hair. The tail is feathered without being fluffy, and since Bucky couldn't decide between upright or floppy ears, Natasha has gotten him a set that's in-between, upright at the base and then flopping over. They make him think of the Tramp, and he grins at his reflection as he gets them properly settled in his hair. He suddenly feels mischievous and genuinely canine, and lets his tongue loll out a little, twitching his hips to wag his tail.

Emerging from the bathroom, he's just in time to see Steve throwing his head back to rest against Natasha's shoulder, hips pumping forward into her hand, perfect teeth biting into his pretty lip. "Now how am I gonna compete with that?" Bucky asks, and Clint laughs.

"I dunno, you look pretty good to me."

"You are a particularly sweet puppy," Natasha drawls, sounding like she doesn't have Steve gasping and writhing in her arms. Bucky whines and wags, and Nick chuckles.

"C'mere, boy."

Bucky obeys.


	37. Animal Day V

Steve is starting to get used to waking up in happy piles of people. It's warm and feels safe. He's tucked in between Bucky and Natasha, and can just see Bruce beyond Natasha. He coos and wriggles a bit, and Nick chuckles softly where he's cuddled in against Bucky's back.

"Awake, kitten?"

"Yeah," Steve whispers, blushing.

"Want me to go get our gear so you can stay warm?"

"Yeah, thanks," Steve says, and closes his eyes again, dozing until Nick comes back and coaxes him out of bed to help him into his ears, mitts, and tail, before dressing himself and then ushering Steve back into the pile, crawling after him to wrap around him as Bucky makes a complaining noise and then gathers Natasha close, going quiet again. Steve smiles, and makes purring noises as he drifts to sleep again.

It's Natasha's cry of, "Dish!" that wakes Steve for real, and Bucky whines, nuzzling him. He looks so much like a real puppy, torn between the promise of food and the desire to stay close to Steve. Steve purrs and nuzzles Bucky's cheek, getting up and prowling downstairs on all fours, quickly getting a feel for it. At the base of the stairs he squeaks, surprised by the humid warmth of Bucky nuzzling at his balls, snuffly and intent as any dog Steve has ever seen. He shudders and spreads his legs a little before pulling away and gently batting at Bucky, leading the way into the kitchen. Bucky comes after him, panting softly with a wide, silly canine smile.

"There's my new puppy," Natasha coos, ruffling Bucky's hair. "And here's your dish, sweetie." It's metallic grey, with Bucky's name stickered onto the side like all the others. He wags frantically and lunges for his food before remembering that he's supposed to wait for orders and settling back on his haunches, whining. Natasha laughs. "Take it," she says, and Bucky devours his late breakfast. All the other bowls are empty, and thumping from the basement tells Steve where the other dogs must be. He gets a real plate like the other cats, and nibbles for a while. When Bucky finishes, Steve prowls off with him to join the others.

The basement is full of happy dogs tussling with each other, and the door to the other room is open, letting Steve see Clint, sitting in Bruce's cage and wearing feathered ears and a pair of long gloves that match them. Once Bucky has been absorbed into the general rough-and-tumble, Steve goes over to watch the bird. Clint whistles when he sees Steve, and flaps his arms slightly, the gloves making them look shockingly winglike. Steve mews in a friendly way, raising a tentative paw, and Clint chirps, cautiously edging back. Steve trills at him, and settles down by the cage, lying still and blinking slowly, the way a cat does around a friend. After a long moment Clint comes over, taking small steps on his knees rather than trying to hop like a perching bird. Steve mews again and feels his tail twitch, blinking even more slowly than before. He opens one eye to make sure that Clint is watching and then ostentatiously scrunches them both shut, waiting for an internal slow count of four before opening them again, taking his time about letting the light in bit by bit.

Clint smiles, and nudges the unlocked door open with such a cute little head-bob that Steve can't help giggling, one paw to his mouth. Clint cheeps and comes over to Steve, tilting his head to the side to examine him for a moment before nuzzling into his hair with a sort of preening motion. Steve purrs and nuzzles back, and soon the two of them are sprawled together on the floor, cuddling and pawing at each other like someone's silly and precious pets. Clint's heat keeps Steve warm, and he purrs and nibbles on Clint, making him let out a little chirp that sounds alarmed, though he doesn't pull away. Steve lovingly pats his face with one paw, and Clint shivers, turning his head and kissing Steve's naked wrist in a move that's entirely human.

"Oh, what sweet babies," Natasha coos from the doorway, and Clint chirps happily, bobbing his head again and making Steve giggle. Natasha comes and kneels beside them, leaning over them and opening her blouse to let her breasts dangle free for Steve and Clint to nuzzle and paw and preen. She sighs and moans softly as Steve latches on to suck wetly and then nibble, and slides her hands up Clint's bare sides, too firm to tickle, making him writhe. He chirps and trills, and Steve groans quietly, keeping it down in his chest where it's a nearly a purr.

At last Natasha pulls away, but she doesn't bother to close the shirt. "Come on, let's go watch the puppies play." They follow her, Clint sticking as close as he can without actually being able to perch on her shoulder. Steve is conscious of his dignity as a cat, and prowls along just a bit behind.

The puppies of course have no dignity, and come rushing over to Natasha in a happy, panting crowd, nuzzling her legs and letting their tongues hang out in ecstasy. Bucky greets her with the rest, but then comes over to nuzzle Steve's face and sniff at the crook of his neck. Steve shivers and then mews loudly as Bucky flips him onto his back and pins him, apparently trying to simultaneously kiss and smell every single part of Steve's body.

Natasha laughs, and has Bucky get up onto all fours again and herd Steve into the center of the room, where Thor is clumsily pawing lube onto his cock as he lines himself up behind Tony, and Bruce is biting and sucking at the nape of his neck, rubbing against him in a way that promises that this will soon be a proper sandwich. He can't help a giggle at Thor being the meat, but doesn't bother to explain himself to anyone, much more interested in feeling Bucky's warmth and weight on him as he pins him to the floor again.


	38. Animal Day VI

Tony is having a pretty great Animal Day so far. He's got Thor fucking him senseless with that huge cock, and Bruce behind Thor, setting the pace and making him groan as fast as he can draw breath. Being fucked by Thor while someone else fucks him from behind is one of Tony's favorite things. The position works really well for Thor, and makes him make these amazing little squeaky noises when Bruce grinds hard and deep.

All this, and he gets to watch Bucky nail Steve like nothing else exists in the world. They're positioned just right for him to admire the impossible, feline arch of Steve's back as he pushes up and back onto Bucky, yowling and clawing at the carpet as Bucky pants and groans, fucking him fast and deep. At first he makes a complaining noise when Nick starts prodding him to move, but goes eagerly when he realizes how things are being arranged. Steve does the same as Pepper steers him and Bucky, having the same epiphany Tony does. This way he and Steve close enough to kiss each other while they get fucked, and if they just turn their heads to Tony's right and Steve's left, they can see Natasha where she's sitting in a chair and watching them, fond and amused and beautiful. Her shirt is hanging on the back of the chair now, and her pants are most of the way unbuttoned. Tony grins at her and she grins back.

"Pretty bird," she calls, and whistles to Clint, who comes from the corner where he's been watching the action, rock hard and staring to drip just a bit. Tony licks his lips and then Steve grabs him and kisses him, driving most other considerations from his mind. Goddamn, the kid kisses like he wants to eat Tony alive, but so gently. He shudders and moans into it as Thor and Bruce get properly started again, and by the time he takes another look Clint is settled in Natasha's lap, legs spread wide as she works one slick finger into him.

A soft little cry to Tony's right turns out to be Pepper, her eyes huge as Nick sinks into her, holding onto the crook of her neck with his teeth like a real cat. Tony grins again and Pepper smiles back when she opens her eyes and sees him.

"I have such beautiful pets," Natasha says, opening Clint up a little wider and making him whimper and trill out high, breathy little birdnoises. "I love watching my sweet babies play together."

Pepper mewls, and Tony glances over just in time to see her eyes roll back as Nick's strokes get faster and harder. Tony clenches around Thor with the memory of how fucking good it feels to be balls-deep in Pepper, and Thor yelps and bucks helplessly. Tony chuckles and kisses Steve again, nibbling on that pretty mouth and murmuring into his ear about how good he looks when he's full of Bucky's cock. The words make his face flush an even brighter pink, and Bucky whines.

"Squeezing that nice thick cock, aren't you?" Tony murmurs, licking Steve's cheek and making him whimper. "God, you're already so tight..." He cuts himself off with a moan as Bruce speeds up and Thor sobs behind him.

"Puppies don't talk," Natasha murmurs as Steve shudders all over, "but I'll allow it."

"C'mon, mistress, you know I never shut up." He proves himself right by letting out a loud groan as Thor finally reaches around. Tony is such a huge bottom that they always save it, or he'd go off too early. But now Thor and Bruce have caught up, and he's free to have an enormous sloppy orgasm all over the towels Natasha always puts down here on Animal Day. By the time he finishes bucking and howling, most of the others have joined him or are close to it. Bucky has sat back on his heels and pulled Steve with him to get even deeper, and Steve is limp and helpless and fucked out, his own come beaded on his belly as he clutches weakly at Bucky's arm, mouth hanging open.

"Fuckin' gorgeous," Tony mumbles, and then has to close his eyes to just feel Thor coming inside him. Thor trembles to a stop but Bruce is still moving, rocking them both and making Thor make pained little noises in his throat. He always sounds like he's just about to scream in pain, but Tony knows from experience just how pissed he would be if Bruce pulled out right now. Bruce doesn't, mercilessly using Thor until he comes deep inside him with that barely-human roar that makes everyone shiver. And then Pepper is wailing, eyes huge, and Tony has just to just stop and watch Nick drive her over the edge. And then glance over to see Bucky clinging to Steve as he ruts into him like he wants to climb inside, groaning. Steve lets out a pathetic little squeak that's just fucking adorable, and then everything is quiet except for Nick's harsh breathing and Clint's breathy little chirps. His cock twitches with every movement of Natasha's fingers, and Tony shudders, carefully sliding off of Thor to crawl closer. Thor and Bruce join him, but Bucky is still busy cuddling Steve as he catches his breath. For a second Tony worries, because he doesn't actually remember where Steve's inhaler is, but he doesn't start wheezing and Bucky probably knows anyway, so Tony turns back to Clint and Natasha.

"Which of my pets wants Clint's come on his pretty face?" she coos, and Tony pants and whines, wagging frantically. Behind him Nick comes with a low growl, and Natasha smiles as she points Clint's cock at Tony's face and strokes him until Clint cries out and paints Tony's lips and beard with slick heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as requested, there is going to be Loki in this. Thor is going to re-meet him soon, and I already know their history together, but I'm not sure how they run into each other. I was thinking that Loki could easily be in Self-Destructive Masochist Mode, playing unsafely and/or picking fights in alleyways, but that whole thing is rather done, so I'm turning it over to my readers. Is the hackneyed crap a guilty pleasure I should go with because this fic's stated mission is to eat all the pies, or do you guys have better ideas? Comment and let me know.


	39. The One Where Thor Sees Loki

Steve hates February even more than most people. It doesn't get that cold here, but it's cold enough, damn it. He's taking what he and Bucky have started calling a preventative day. He isn't sick, but if he goes out into the cold again he probably will be. And the project he just finished cut into his sleep and today it's not just cold but fucking sleeting, and Bucky only had to lean on him a little bit to get him to stay at Natasha's house instead of going home to collect his things and then up to campus to dutifully trudge from building to building in the sleet. The day gets darker as it goes on, and by noon the sky seems to only be about ten feet off the ground. It's a curious effect and Steve tries to capture it in charcoal between sips of hot tea while he waits for Thor to get back.

The shopping in a household of this many adults is kind of scatter-shot, but once a month someone goes to buy all the major canned staples, dry pasta, tampons, toilet paper, and other necessities of life, and this month is Thor's turn. He had offered to bring Steve along, but Steve had declined in favor of tea and a pair of pajamas with feet. Clint wears them for ageplay purposes, and they're only a bit too big. They're also incredibly warm and comfortable, especially with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Everyone has something to do today but Steve, and he treasures the feeling. He looks up at the sound of a car pulling in, and is on his way to the door when Thor opens it, looking bedraggled and helpless and pathetic.

"Steve?" he sounds like he's about to cry, and Steve rushes over and hugs him tightly the second he gets his wet coat off. Thor clings to him, reusable bags at his feet.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, and Thor shakes his head, making a hurt little noise in his throat. Asking him what happened just gets the same noise only louder, so Steve steers Thor into the kitchen, pours him some tea, and then sits in his lap. The combination of a warming drink and cuddles calms Thor a bit, and he's finally able to talk, even if his voice cracks a lot.

"I saw Loki." He strokes Steve's hair. "I know you don't know who I mean. He was my brother, once."

Despite this dramatic and intriguing opening, Steve manages to just sit there and let Thor drink more tea and become just a bit calmer before asking for the whole story. It turns out that back in Asgard, when Thor was just sixteen, his father had volunteered to foster the son of deposed and accordingly very dead crime boss. Thor hadn't really known anything about it, and had at first been a bit annoyed at the prospect of sharing his home with some stranger. Then his actual generosity had made him like the idea. And then he had seen Loki and known that he was in trouble.

"He's still so beautiful," Thor squeaks, and has to bury his face in his hands for a long moment. "I fell in love with him then, and I swear I never breathed a word of it. He was so alone, and I didn't want to do anything to make him feel unsafe or hounded... but he ran away anyway. The day after his seventeenth birthday."

"Oh." Steve can't think of anything else to say, and just hugs Thor instead.

"My parents were frantic, but after spending most of a year trying to find him, they started to realize that he didn't want to be found. For a while he'd call us from payphones and just hang up when Mother asked if it was him."

Steve can't help thinking that this is a very prickish way to treat concerned legal guardians, but there's no point in mentioning it with Thor looking so miserable. "That's rough," is what he says instead, and Thor smiles sadly.

"Yes. It is." He sighs. "He left his cart, getting away from me."

"Thor..."

"I can only think that I must have given myself away, if he still can't stand the sight of me." He sounds so disgusted with himself that Steve launches into a defense of his good qualities, and even if he can't believe it, the passion in Steve's voice makes him smile. By the time Natasha, Clint, and Bruce get back from the studio, Thor is almost his usual self and he and Steve have gotten most of the things put away. Thor kneels in greeting, and Natasha smiles, ruffling his hair. Steve and Bucky haven't gotten into this habit and Natasha has said that they'll do it when or if they feel it and that there's no rush. Now she crouches to be on level with Thor as Steve makes another pot of tea.

"What's wrong?" she murmurs, and Thor leans into her and mumbles an explanation of the day's events. Steve quietly relays Thor's information to the other two, and they all go to join Natasha and Thor on the couch as the tea steeps. Thor relaxes again with someone warm and loving on either side of him, and even manages to ask how everyone is doing at SHIELD.

"Phil looks great," Natasha says, "I think things are working out with the cellist. Bruce was able to help the lab staff get the chocolate strawberry lube to taste better, and Clint gets to beta-test our new cock sleeve."

"And you get to watch," Clint adds, kissing Thor's hand.

"Okay," Thor says softly, and claims both Clint and Steve for cuddles, delegating Bruce to fetch the tea.


	40. The One Where Loki Freaks Out

Fuck the groceries, he can come back later. That is one of the only things Loki is actually sure of as he charges out of the store. He half-expects Thor to catch him with a flying tackle or something, and refuses to examine his own disappointment when that doesn't happen. Instead he gets into his car and forces himself to drive home, because Thor can't possibly know where it is. He has time to get the hell out of the city before Thor calls his loving mommy and daddy and tells them that he has caught up with their darling little Loki at last. He shudders at the thought and blows a red light, desperate just to get home. Once he's there he locks everything and pulls all the shades down, sitting on the floor of his impersonal and temporary (they're all temporary) apartment. He laughs out loud to think that as a pharmaceutical rep he has managed to build the kind of life one of his father's top enforcers would have led, and hugs his knees to his chest until he remembers to worry about wrinkling his suit beyond repair and straightens out again.

Loki has a procedure for feeling like this, and just because the sight of Thor in the flesh after all this time makes it more intense than ever, it doesn't actually alter the situation that much. He stands and takes off his clothes, hanging each item up carefully and then taking a long shower. The funny thing is that it had been falling for Thor that had really fucked things up. His father dying wasn't so much, since the guy was never around anyway. Loki has a kind of vague sense of missing him, but he doesn't even remember his mother, and being treated like an actual juvenile and put out to pasture with the Alfodr family had been a lot better than anything he had been expecting. And then Thor had had to ruin everything by being so... Thor.

At first he had been annoying, of course. Helpful and considerate and hospitable and determined to be a good big brother. He's only three months older, and really, what could Loki have done but be as annoying a little shit as possible? And Thor had forgiven him for all of it and still tried to be nice, all guileless and wide-eyed and sweet. So Loki had had to leave. It had been a choice between leaving the closest thing to a home he had had, or crawling into his foster brother's bed one night and sending everyone back to court and into therapy, besides. Loki can be selfish, but he has his limits, and he hadn't wanted to spoil something as lovely as the Alfodr clan had been before he had joined it.

Loki finally steps out of the shower, toweling his hair and tying it back, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he watches his pale and angular reflection. Even in the stress of seeing Thor again, he had noticed the beard, and now wonders whether it's a recent growth or one of longer standing. Something knots up in his chest, sudden and painful, and he leans on the sink for a long moment, taking slow breaths in and out. None of this has killed him yet, and it isn't going to now. He knows what he needs to do, and heads into his room to dress for this particular night out.

He doesn't actually like Chitauri, but most addicts don't claim to like methamphetamine. He needs the place now, and it gets the job done. He always parks two blocks away, and gathers himself on the walk over, skin tingling in his mesh and leather. He's street-legal, but wears a black duster over it all, anyway. It's a mix of genuine shame, the simple feeling that he's too old to wear this kind of stuff on the street, and a profound desire to avoid attracting attention. Aside from everything else, Chitauri is the kind of dive Loki wouldn't be caught dead in, if he didn't _need_ to be here. It's disgusting. He pays the exorbitant cover charge and goes into the low ceilinged and red-lit cave, full of body heat and the scent of a place regularly filled almost to capacity and almost never properly cleaned. There's a coat check that's safe enough if one isn't so foolish as to leave anything of value in the pockets, and he leaves his coat, wandering up to the bar to get his first shot of the evening. It's probably going to take several tonight, and he might as well get started. At least here no one gives him any crap about not playing sober. He gestures for a refill, eyes scanning the room.

The woman by the door looks promising. Her mouth is vicious. The man in the corner is probably a softy under all his leather daddy schtick, and the androgynous person at the other end of the bar is on a cellphone, the glowing screen illuminating hir cheek. There may not be anyone mean enough here tonight, and that means drinking himself into a blackout, which is always so unattractive. He wonders if anyone here has any coke, and what he'd have to do to get a line or three. Done with his second shot, he decides to find out, and begins to make the rounds. No one here is truly a familiar face, but there are a few people Loki has seen before. He likes Chitauri's lack of true regulars. He doesn't want to get to know anyone anyway.

Within twenty minutes he learns that the androgynite has the coke, goes by Teddy, and is male, but, like Loki, has way too much style for one gender. He's also happy to share, and they huddle in a stall in the men's room, doing lines off of his compact mirror and truly bonding as kindred souls.


	41. The One Where Clint Tests A Cock Sleeve

Now that they know Loki is in town, Nick is able to send out feelers to find him. Steve is torn between being horrified at the implications for the civil liberties of his nation, and being desperate to help Thor. Being himself, Steve knows full well how awful kids can be, but he can't see even sixteen-year-old Thor being creepy enough to drive someone away. Especially not when he gets the opportunity to draw Thor out a little more on the subject.

First, everyone filters home in ones and twos and does their individual best to soothe Thor, and then Clint cordially invites Thor and Steve up to his room. He and Thor have a thing with new SHIELD toys, and Thor's emotional distress barely causes a ripple in the routine. When he's happy Thor likes watching Clint test toys, and when he's unhappy watching Clint test toys lets him forget about it for a while. Usually they do this by themselves, locked in Clint's bedroom with a red scarf on the door, but today Steve is privileged to accompany them. Of his own volition he might have changed into real clothes by now, but Thor has elected him teddy bear, and the pajamas are perfect for snuggling.

There's a chair, but Thor sits on the floor with Steve in his lap, Steve's back to his chest so he can watch too. Clint lays out two towels, the new sleeve, a favorite one of his own in case he doesn't like the new one, lube, scissors, and wet wipes. He glances up from the last touches, smiling and going a bit pink. Steve smiles back.

"I'm glad you don't mind me being here."

"It's kind of funny that I feel shy at all, but yeah. You're okay." He grins, and sits back on his heels, pulling his shirt over his head. "I think the whole thing is just because you never know what will happen with new toys. SHIELD makes good stuff, and I know they've already tested it, but still."

"I promise not to laugh," Steve says, as Clint pulls off his shirt and sets it aside before picking up the sleeve, which is sleek and bright purple and looks like some kind of alien sex organ the way a lot of SHIELD's stuff does. "Unless it's really funny."

Clint chuckles. "I guess that's okay." He continues his inspection for another minute or two, Thor and Steve watching in attentive silence. He looks up at them again at last and winks before slithering out of his jeans and the purple boxer-briefs beneath. He's not quite half-hard, but he gets there slowly and then faster under their gaze and his own touch. They're not supposed to touch him, and Steve takes Thor's hands to help himself remember. Clint bites his lip and shudders, eyes dropping shut as he gives himself lazy, hard strokes from root to tip. Once he's so hard they can see his heartbeat pulsing in his cock, the tip drooling a thin, steady stream of precome, he finally starts to lube the sleeve. The slick noises of application and Clint's heavy breathing are the only sounds, and Steve shivers. By the time Clint is sliding the sleeve onto his cock, Steve is breathing with him.

"Clint?" Thor murmurs.

"Y-yeah? Oh fffuck..."

"May I touch Steve?"

"Totally."

"Steve?"

"Please," Steve gasps, and then gasps again and frowns, gesturing to his bag. Thor digs his inhaler out for him and presses it into his hand, his huge hand wrapped around Steve's as he gives himself three blasts. Setting it aside he feels bad to see that Clint has flagged a little, but he perks right up when he's sure that Steve is all right, and then Thor unzips the pajamas, letting in a rush of cooler air that makes Steve squeak. And then he's squeezing Steve's cock, so gentle and with so much restrained strength. Clint sighs, and starts to fuck the sleeve, whining quietly, barely audible. Thor matches his rhythm, and Steve melts back against him. His own feeble flailing to touch Thor's cock is batted aside, and he gives in, just letting himself be touched as he watches Clint's cock through the jelly, just a blur because of the purple color and all the texture on the inside surface.

"How is it?" Thor asks, husky and soft and completely in this moment, with no trace of old griefs in his voice.

"Fuckin' good," Clint mumbles, sounding drunk. "'S got a shitton of these really, really tiny nubs and they're not... fffucck, they're not too hard, and there's so many per square inch..." He subsides into panting again, leaning forward on his free hand to allow his hips more play. Steve is really glad that Thor has such a good grip on him, because it's getting harder and harder to remember that he's not supposed to touch Clint.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Thor murmurs, nibbling Steve's ear.

"Y-yeah," Steve whispers, and then whines sharply as Thor squeezes him almost too tight. Clint covers the hole on the end of the sleeve and moans at the suction. Steve comes and a moment later Clint is filling the sleeve with white, both of them panting and gasping as they shake their way back down to baseline.

Thor helps them both clean up before he'll let them join forces to suck him off. That's enough fun that it whets Clint's appetite all over again, but Steve is tired, and pads off to the room he and Bucky are using. Once Thor has cleaned himself up he comes to join Steve, wrapping around him from behind. It's still really early, but Steve needs the extra sleep and has a morning class, and Thor is emotionally exhausted if not physically. Bucky comes in to kiss them goodnight, and murmurs to Thor that he'll put his cold feet on him if he doesn't give Bucky his fair share of the bed.

"I'll keep you both warm," Thor mumbles, and Steve smiles, hugging his massive arm.


	42. The One Where Nick And Natasha Find Loki

Nick is able to call in a few favors and gain access to Loki's (technically sealed) juvenile record in Asgard, which, like Denmark, has a national system of Personal Identification Numbers. Using that, he finds the social security number given to Loki along with his permanent residence status, the name change form for swapping Laufey for Frost, and then his current address. He doesn't actually have much information hanging out in the open, but with Nick's wide and often shady network of acquaintance, it's hopeless for an actual legal pharmacy rep to hide.

"I would have been suspicious if he had hid any better, really," he says, and Natasha laughs. Most of the house is at least thinking of going to bed now, but Natasha is wide awake and Nick seems to be as well, his good eye glaring up at her in the glow of his laptop. She sits beside him on the couch and leans against him as he wraps his arm around her waist, big hand resting easily on her hip.

"I'm going to play a hunch, Papa Bear."

"Long shot?"

"Could be. Want to come with me?"

"Always."

As she dresses, Natasha explains her reasoning to Nick. "Everything Thor has ever told us about this guy makes me think that he grew up kinky, that he's out playing now, and that he doesn't know how to do it right."

"Really?"

"Leather porn on the shared computer, all those 'jokes' about masochism.... and he definitely can't deal with his emotions at all. You know Thor, I know Thor, and he would never have done anything to make actually fleeing from him an appropriate response. If Loki had told him to fuck off, he would have come home to cry to Steve the way he did today, and if Loki is half as intelligent as Thor has always said, he'd know it. And even if we're completely mistaken in Thor and he has somehow secretly been a creeper this whole time, the smart thing to do would have been to find a manager and get him banned from the place." She pulls a mesh shirt over the black electrical tape X's negating her nipples, and pulls on a pair of black leather pants and a duster loaded with useless straps and zippers that's really too Hot Topic for her. This is about expedience, though, and it's one of her quickest recognizably kinky outfits. Nick just puts on a collar, and fetches her whip as she tugs the hems of the pants down over her boots.

They don't talk on the drive to Chitauri, which is the closest to Loki's address of the various clubs Natasha disapproves of. Shadowbox is actually maybe a block closer, but Shadowbox has a close-knit cast of regulars and some of the world's fiercest and most observant bouncers. If Loki is trying to punish himself with no holds barred, Chitauri is the place to go. Grimy, seedy, poorly-managed and full of people who think aftercare is for chumps. It looks pretty much exactly how people who disapprove of this sort of thing would expect it to look. Low and dark except for its infernal red sign and whatever of the blood-colored light spills into the parking lot whenever the door opens, Chitauri is a relic and a caricature of itself at the same time. The cover is ridiculous for the literal filthiness and lack of amenities that haven't changed since the last time Natasha was forced to set foot here. The guy on door smirks at Nick, who glowers at him hard enough that it disappears, and he ducks his head and mumbles something noncommittal as he stamps their hands. Natasha chuckles as they head into the terrible industrial music and the miasma of B.O. and leather and fixtures that no one ever cleans.

Even though she doesn't really want to give Chitauri and its scummy owners any money, Natasha buys a beer and has Nick kneel at her feet at a corner table so she can feed it to him sip by sip as she looks around for Loki. Thor said he hasn't changed much. Still tall and thin, same black hair worn at the typical length for an Asgardian male his age. There had been no bitter fights about long hair on men in Asgard in the '60s, because it had never gone out of style.

It's not as much help here as it would have been in the grocery store, but it's somewhere to start. One fall of black hair turns out to belong to a girl, and then there are none for so long that they have almost finished their beer when Nick suddenly straightens up, looking across the room. Natasha follows his gaze and there's Loki, hardly looking any different from Thor's old photo. Taller and paler and older and with his hair slicked back instead of hanging in his face, but that's all. The essentials of form are all the same. He's even still lean, something that it looks like he might grow out of in the picture. He's letting a woman in a full-body veil lead him along, and Natasha has to admire her elegance. She's like a black ghost or a living shadow, her hands in their black gloves making perfect silhouettes against the red light as she actually uses the bucket of bleach-water provided by the management before she ties Loki to the same rickety old St. Andrew's cross that was here years ago.

"They should use that thing for firewood, mistress," Nick mutters, and Natasha rubs the back of his neck.

"Yeah, they should." Not least because this woman is clearly an artist. She takes her time with Loki, gently running her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, speaking quietly into his ear before stepping back to look at him. She arranges his gleaming hair just so, stroking it possessively before she decides that it's pretty enough, and steps back again, producing a rattan cane out of her voluminous folds like a magic trick. Natasha fights the impulse to applaud.


	43. The One Where Steve And Bucky Have Alone Time

Steve doesn't realize that they have company until he's dressed and cooking himself breakfast. There's just a note on the counter that says, in Natasha's handwriting, that Loki is here and will be open to talking to Thor once he has had enough sleep. Steve blinks, and then smiles. This probably hasn't solved everything, but it's a very good start for such a short amount of time. Going to bed as early as he had has allowed Steve to actually feel hungry enough for an egg and toast, and has given him time to make it, as well. He hums something light and happy that he can't actually place just now, and arranges butter and the one small jar of strawberry jam, onto the label of which Tony has pasted an enormous skull and crossbones because of Pepper's allergy.

Every time he sees it, Steve smiles, because it's silly and sweet and deadly serious all at once. The way Tony loves Pepper is one of the only irony-free things about him, and Steve feels privileged to witness it. He glances up and jumps back in alarm because someone is suddenly standing in the doorway, but calms a moment later. Because this stranger has been well-described for him. "Loki?"

"Yes." He runs a hand through his hair, looking very beautiful and just as confused and sleepy, wrapped in Nick's dark red bathrobe, which washes his skin out to milk white. "Sorry. Are there more eggs?"

"Yeah." Steve checks the clock. "I have time to fix you some. Sit down."

"Thank you. Coffee?"

"Don't like it, sorry."

"Can't have everything." He rubs at his eyes, and examines the note.

"Have you slept enough?" Steve asks, and Loki snorts quietly.

"God, no. Is Thor awake?"

"Not yet."

"...Good."

Steve puts a glass of juice in front of him. "Soft-boiled okay? It's what I'm having."

"That's fine," Loki says, and then thanks him for the juice, taking a sip and going back to brooding silence. Steve butters the toast as it comes up and puts two eggs in for Loki as he takes his own out. It goes against the grain to eat in front of a guest like this, but if word gets to Bucky, Steve will never hear the end of it. Loki doesn't seem to mind, quietly consuming his juice. Steve finishes his food and gets up to wash his dishes before putting down more toast for Loki.

"You want jam?"

"Yes, please."

"Be careful with it, the label isn't really a joke. Pepper is seriously allergic."

"Duly noted."

Steve can't stay much longer, but has the satisfaction of seeing Loki handling the jam like the potentially hazardous substance it is, and finding his eggs cooked to his satisfaction before bundling up to wait for the bus. Steve gets to all his classes on time and stays warm on his way between buildings, but all day he's thinking of Loki and Thor, hoping that they're talking and that things will work out and that someone will tell him how the hell Loki ended up at Natasha's last night.

He calls Bucky at half-past twelve, right at the beginning of Bucky's lunch break and between two of his own classes. He can hear the noise of Bucky's usual diner when he answers, and smiles. "Hey, Bucky."

"Hey. You all right?"

"Yeah. Loki and I had breakfast."

"Good, he was a fuckin' mess when Nat brought him home last night."

"So what happened?"

"Nat just said he needed aftercare and to treat him very gently. I said we could make ourselves scarce if she wanted. What do you think?"

"We're about due for a night at home, anyway." For all the time they spend at Natasha's house, they are far from actually moved in. The apartment is closer to Bucky's current job, and there's Mrs. Henderson and other neighbors to consider, as well as the cozy feeling of a place of their own. It's also about time to check the perishables. After letting a head of lettuce rot into black slime, they have learned to keep better track of things and bring them over to Natasha's before they spoil so someone (usually Thor) will actually eat them.

"Yeah," Bucky says softly, and Steve blushes, because there are other reasons a night at home sounds so good even in the face of all his curiosity about Loki. After Bucky bids him farewell to scarf down the rest of his lunch and get to work, Steve texts Natasha to let her know, and spends the rest of the day looking forward to seeing Bucky again. After class he does homework at the coffee shop near campus until Bucky arrives to collect him. He looks tired, but grins at Steve and pulls him close.

"Hey, kid."

"Hey yourself," Steve says, nuzzling into Bucky's chest for a moment and breathing in the scent of sweat and concrete until Bucky steals his bag and sets it in the back seat. Steve climbs into the passenger side and sighs happily because the heater is blasting.

"Comfy, baby?"

"Yeah."

Bucky laughs, and they wind their way home through horrible evening traffic that makes Bucky swear and snarl. Once they're safely home Steve gets to work on soothing him, and when they're fed and bathed and warm, they curl up in bed together to talk in perfect comfort. About Loki and Thor and everything Bucky saw for himself last night and everything he was told about it, and then other things as they press closer and their skin goes from warm to hot. Bucky guides Steve to rut against his belly, locking their gazes and using one hand to hold Steve's head in place, looking so hungry for whatever it is he's seeing in his face.


	44. The One Where Loki Fails To Take Care Of Himself

Loki wishes Salma would hurry the fuck up and do it. He can't take this, having her stroke him so gently and murmur about how beautiful he is. She promised him pain, damn it, and he's about to say something rude and risk not getting anything (she said she didn't work with brats, and that if Loki acts up she'll cut him loose,) when she finally says, "Now." That and the swish of the cane through the air is the only warning he gets, and he likes it that way. No time to think about it, no time to bite back the humiliating sound he makes or even to notice it happening. This is what he has needed since he saw Thor today, and after hours at fucking Chitauri he has finally found it. He can stop fucking feeling feelings and just _feel_. He shudders and relaxes against the cross, which hasn't given out on him yet, even if it seems like it will every single time. She's tireless and precise, and has given him a dozen almost before he knows it. She pauses, then, and lets Loki catch his breath. The club is quiet except for some quiet mutterings, and he's glad. It takes more when people make noise. It takes more pain for him to just get the fuck away from himself.

Salma is one of those fucking responsible types, and she keeps checking in. Loki is supposed to say 'red' when he has had enough, but he's not sure 'enough' is even possible or if he has any idea what it feels like. Right now smells like old wood and feels like venom. The cane bites him again and again, harsh even through his leather, and he has a hazy daydream of the mythological Loki, bound under the serpent and waiting for each drop of its burning poison. He writhes on the cross, hips grinding slowly against it of their own volition, and cries out when Salma grabs his hair and pulls his head back, growling a demand for a color into his ear. Loki's entire back aches, from his shoulders to his upper thighs. The sharp, searing part of the pain ladders over the ache, too many separate lines for him to count anymore and it's taking more and more effort to breathe, but he inhales, long and shaky, and growls, "Green." He isn't sure he feels green, but Salma hits him again and drives everything from his mind. Sometimes Loki gets almost peaceful when he has been hurt enough, but now it's more like being numb without being numb. Buzzing and cold and remote but unable to escape the moment and his body. He doesn't know if he's making audible noises or not, mouth open and face damp with what he assumes is sweat and there's nothing but pain and it's too much but he can't bring himself to say 'red.' 

He remembers the word that has to come out of his mouth to stop this, and he could even make his lips and tongue and lungs cooperate to say it, but if he says it he'll have to leave. He doesn't stay with people afterward, no matter what they say. He always crashes and it's better to be alone, to be in his own bathroom or bedroom, controlling the environment. To be somewhere no one can see how broken he is. It hurts so much and he can't breathe and everything is going red and black but he's at Chitauri where everything is always red and black and he doesn't want to be alone and it doesn't matter if he can't breathe.

And then there's a cool draft on his fevered skin as everything stops. He feels miserable and exposed, struggling to catch his breath as Salma unties him with quick expertise. Nothing makes any sense and he hates everyone, but someone puts a long, heavy coat around his shoulders, and that helps. He pulls the collar up over his head and whoever it is steadies him when he almost falls. He can hear Salma apologizing and discussing him with another woman as this person leads him to the little private room that Loki never goes into except to do his share in giving all the blowjobs that aren't supposed to happen here. Now he sits down on the couch and clutches the coat tightly around himself.

"May I touch you?" its owner asks. The voice sounds like a hardcore old black guy, and when Loki peeks out with one eye, he sees that his basic mental image is correct, though it hadn't included an eye-patch or any bad-ass facial scarring.

"No," Loki says, when he remembers to answer the question. His ears are ringing quietly, and he still feels disconnected.

"Okay." There's a water cooler in here, with a stack of paper cups, and the man pours two cups as Loki slowly starts to warm up. It's only then that he starts shaking, and he hates it, gritting his chattering teeth. He jumps at a gentle knock on the door, and Nick goes over to answer it.

"Salma wants to know if you're all right."

"I'm f-f-fine," Loki says, trying not to snap.

"Bullshit," the man says. "Can they come in?"

"...Okay," Loki mutters, and stares into his cup as the women join them. They sit down and everyone is so patient and understanding that it makes Loki want to puke. And then Natasha offers to take him home, Salma demands a call from Loki by noon the next day or she'll call the police, and then Loki is alone with Nick and Natasha. They give him a bit more time to collect himself before Natasha tells him that Thor is living with her and wants to see him.

"Not now," she adds. "Not until you get some rest. Tonight we'll just check you for real injuries and give you a bed of your own, okay?"

Dazed, Loki just nods.


	45. The One Where Steve And Bucky Have Morning Bondage

The best part of getting alone time with Bucky on a Friday is that they both have Saturday off, and can wake up at their own pace in a warm tangle of limbs. Steve nuzzles into Bucky's chest and makes a soft and happy noise. The strong arm already looped over him squeezes gently, and Bucky shifts to bring the other one forward to gather Steve in against his chest. He's still mostly asleep, and Steve smiles at how peaceful he looks. He's tumescent against Steve's hip, but not really hard. Steve shifts up, stretching his neck to kiss the corner of Bucky's jaw and then nuzzling into his neck, sighing. Bucky makes a small and happy noise in his sleep, slowly rolling his hips against Steve, who shudders and starts kissing him awake.

"Hey," Bucky murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

"Hey." Steve sighs, gently pushing Bucky until he shifts onto his back, pulling Steve with him. They slowly become fully awake and just as hard, and Steve barely even thinks about it before pulling a big scarf out of the bedside drawer. Bucky went out a while ago and bought four, but that's entirely too complicated right now, so Steve just smiles and puts Bucky's hands over his head. "All right?" he asks, looping the scarf around Bucky's wrists.

"So all right," Bucky says, and watches Steve as he carefully binds Bucky's hands together. Once he's sure they're secure, Steve shifts downward until he can kiss Bucky again, taking his time about it. He loves the way Bucky just gives himself up, whimpering and sucking lightly at Steve's tongue. Steve breaks away just long enough to get the lube, and then swallows up every helpless little sound Bucky makes as he fingers him open. Bucky moans and rolls his hips as Steve strokes him with careful fingertips.

"So fucking beautiful," Steve murmurs, and Bucky blushes, biting his lip and squeezing Steve's fingers. He relaxes a moment later and stays that way, letting Steve slide his fingers out and his cock in. He takes the whole length without tensing, easy and open and passive under Steve, just moaning softly and trembling a little. Steve groans and kisses him again, fucking him long and easy and slow, the two of them just melting together until Bucky whimpers and comes. The feeling of Bucky clenching around him and the knowledge that neither of them has touched his cock this whole time sends Steve over the edge right after him, and he collapses on Bucky's chest for a moment before reaching up to untie him and then collapsing again, for a much longer moment.

After they've lurched to their feet, showered, and eaten, Steve calls Natasha to see if they should come over or not. Apparently Loki has been hiding like a cat in an unfamiliar house, and their presence or absence presumably makes no real difference to him and will probably help Thor, who is a mess. Steve relays this to Bucky, and since they're already fully woken up they head straight over to Natasha's house.

"Hey," Tony says, greeting them at the door. Bruce is standing beside him in a collar and leash, Tony's hand through the loop at the end. Bucky blinks at him, and he blushes. "Bruce likes restraints when he's tense, but he's got shit to do today," Tony explains.

"Aw," Bucky says, and kisses Bruce on the cheek, making him smile softly. 

"Thanks."

They go into the kitchen to drink tea and to get an update on the situation. Thor is still asleep after staying up most of the night either crying or desperately trying not to, and Loki has been invisible and inaudible since calling Salma at noon on Friday. Apparently Natasha had had to swoop in and take him from Salma, but does not blame her for how fucked up the situation had become.

"She's invited here for tea tomorrow, providing everyone is calm enough." Bruce says, refilling Tony's cup.

"We didn't drink nearly this much tea before I picked Bruce up."

Bruce goes slightly pink, and Tony grins, using the leash to reel him in for a kiss. "How did you meet, anyway?" Steve asks, cradling his cup in his cold hands. Bruce covers Tony's mouth as he opens it to speak.

"You always embellish it," he says, over Tony's muffled laughter. "I was actually looking at Pepper, and I had been having a bad day and made an assumption when Tony came up to me. Despite my acting like a horse's ass, Tony decided to court me, and once he had talked Pepper around, the rest was history."

"He totally lifted me off my feet and pinned me to the wall," Tony says, grinning. "It was so fucking hot. He thought I was a jealous asshole, coming over to defend Pepper's honor from the photons bouncing off of her hotness."

"I stopped thinking that when he started hitting on me, and then I felt like an asshole for manhandling Pepper's boyfriend, and they did their best to soothe me, and the rest is history."

Steve smiles, and then sets his cup down, catching sight of Thor lingering in the doorway like Loki had yesterday. There's an amazing family resemblance, made up of nothing but helplessness. Where Loki had tried to hide it, Thor is completely obvious. His hair is a wild mess, and his eyes are red and swollen. He's clutching a blanket around his shoulders. The others follow Steve's gaze.

"Couch?" Bruce asks, voice soft and sympathetic.

Thor just nods, and they clear the table and go join him on the couch, forming one of those secure and comfortable people-piles. Steve and Tony cuddle in close, sharing Thor's lap, and Bucky and Bruce lean against his shoulders as he pours out his insecurities and general wretchedness.


	46. The One Where Thor And Loki Finally Talk

Knowing that Loki is under the same roof and won't speak to him hurts more than Thor can say, but he knows better than to press. When Loki comes out late Friday morning to get Salma's number from Natasha, Thor hides in his bedroom and tries not to cry too loudly. Everyone is very good to him, though, and shuffling out for sustenance late Saturday morning and seeing that Steve and Bucky are here makes him about as happy as anything can right now. He settles on the couch and tries not to snivel too much, cuddling Steve and Tony, and bathing in Bruce and Bucky's warmth. The way they bracket him is soothing, and he's just beginning to relax when Loki walks in. He looks the same as he did in the store yesterday, except that he's wearing faded jeans that fit perfectly and a plain black t-shirt instead of a suit and tie. There's no sign of what he's thinking in his pale face, and his hair is slicked back, not tumbled like it was when Natasha brought him home.

Thor makes a strange croaking noise and stands without thinking about it, shifting Tony and Steve off of his lap and letting the blanket drop. They settle with Bucky and Bruce, which Thor barely notices because he's too busy stumbling toward Loki. Loki puts his hands in his pockets, something he always did when he was pretending something wasn't bothering him. The urge to pull those nervous hands out and kiss them isn't as immediate and compelling as it was when Thor was sixteen, but it's deeper now, and more truly desperate.

"Loki..."

"Privacy, brother," is all he says, with that sarcastic little curl of his lip, and turns, leading Thor back to the bedroom he has been using. He's too thin, and limps very slightly. Thor feels like he's going to start crying again any second, and grits his teeth with the effort not to. Instead he lets Loki shut the door behind them when they get there, and gesture imperiously to the chair. Loki has always been imperious, and Thor sits down, watching him as attentively as a dog does its master. Loki sits on the bed, and studies Thor for a long moment. "So. I take it you're part of Natasha's happy harem?"

"I am," Thor says softly.

Loki sighs. "Are you going to tell me how worried your parents are?"

"They care for you like their own, Loki." His voice cracks a bit. "But no, I wasn't. I was going to apologize." Loki looks so genuinely surprised that it throws Thor for a moment, but he knows what he needs to say. "I never intended to put any pressure on you, and I'm so, so sorry that I did." He swallows hard, voice breaking as he shifts into Aesir. Everyone speaks English in Asgard, but Aesir is the language of the heart, with its homey rumbles and lilts, like water flowing over stones. "I should have really been your brother, and that is something I cannot undo." His eyes well up with tears and he lets them spill over. "Our home was supposed to be safe for you, and I--" His voice breaks, and he buries his face in his hands. The silence goes on and on until Thor looks up to see Loki staring at him as though he has never seen him before in his life. His ice-green eyes are huge, and his face is paper white.

"Thor..."

"I don't expect you to forgive me," Thor sniffles, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve, "but please take care of yourself."

"...You fucking idiot." He sounds more awed than angry, and is still staring. The anger comes as he leaps up to pace the room. "Are you serious?" His voice rises. "I watched you and wanted you and hated myself all that time, and you never even noticed? Thor Odinson, you are the stupidest person I've ever loved!"

"You didn't notice me, either," Thor says, feeling his mouth stretching into a wide grin.

Loki stops and stares, a bright pink flush of irritation over his cheekbones the only color in his face. "Thor..."

Thor stands, and takes Loki into his arms. It's an easy movement, and Loki stiffens, but doesn't resist. He's only an inch shorter than Thor, but tucks in against his chest like a much smaller person. He hides his face in Thor's shoulder, and Thor starts to rub his back, stopping when Loki hisses in pain. "Loki?"

"Your mistress didn't tell you?" Loki sneers, but doesn't pull away.

"She only said that you were being unsafe. The details weren't hers to tell. Can I see?"

Loki lets out a deep and put-upon sigh, and then steps back and pulls off his shirt. "Fine." He turns around and shows Thor his laddered back, bruises almost black in some places. Thor makes a small, wounded noise, and closes the small distance between them to start kissing the highest mark, feeling compelled. Loki tenses, shudders, and then lets his head drop forward. Thor's arms tentatively creep around his waist, and Loki whimpers softly, sounding like he's on the edge of tears. Thor just keeps kissing him, soft and dry and thorough. He traces each welt that way, an eternity that can never be long enough. Loki just stands there and breathes, tension slowly easing, and Thor lowers himself as he works his way down Loki's back, finally kneeling on the floor and nuzzling at the waistband of his jeans.

"Fuck," Loki whimpers, wobbling. Thor hugs him around the hips, mindful of his bruises as he helps him stay on his feet. Loki shudders and unbuttons his jeans, whining low in his throat as Thor helps him slide them down.


	47. The One Where Steve Fucks Bruce

Steve stands up when he hears muffled yelling in Aesir, and Bruce catches his wrist. "Thor will call for help if Loki actually gets crazy on him. Even if he thinks he deserves it, he knows what he means to us."

This mollifies Steve a little, and he does some homework while Tony and Bruce attempt to explain science to Bucky, but after an hour has gone by with no sign from Thor, he has to go over and knock. He does it lightly, with no idea what he might be interrupting. When he gets no response, he carefully cracks the door, catching sight of Loki in bed and apparently asleep, with Thor wrapped protectively around him from behind. Thor raises his head and smiles at Steve, putting a finger to his lips. Steve smiles back, and quietly closes the door.

"Feel better about it?" Bruce asks, standing behind Steve and holding his own leash.

"Yeah, I do." Steve glances at the wrist loop, and then back up to Bruce's face. "May I?"

Bruce shivers, eyes widening a bit. "Yes."

Steve feels kind of ridiculous as he tows Bruce back to the living room, and hides his burning face in Bruce's shoulder when Tony wolf-whistles. Bruce hugs Steve protectively, and growls at Tony in a way that makes his stomach flutter.

Tony just chuckles. "Easy, monster, I'm not really making fun of you." He stands and comes over to them, Bucky still lounging on the couch, looking amused and deeply fond. Tony cuddles in against Bruce's chest, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "You two kids wanna be alone together?"

"...I'm okay with you watching," Bruce murmurs.

Steve raises his head, still blushing, and smiles. "So am I."

"If you don't invite me I'll hold my breath until I turn purple," Bucky drawls, and Bruce chuckles.

"I don't mind if you tag along. Steve?"

"We've always been a package deal," Steve says, and leads the way to the big bedroom Bruce and Tony often share with Pepper. The bed is enormous and covered with a red duvet, which Tony flings back with the ostentatious flourish of a stage magician.

"Clean sheets and everything," he says, and Steve laughs, slipping his hand fully through the loop of the leash so he can unbutton Bruce's shirt as Tony and Bucky settle into an enormous armchair together. "Pepper and I like to sit here and watch Bruce jerk off for us."

Steve shivers and nuzzles into the hair on Bruce's chest, making him take a long, shaky breath in. Bruce is always so taut at moments like this, like he's afraid to feel or afraid of himself. Steve cups his face in both hands and pulls him down for a kiss. "Beautiful," he murmurs into Bruce's mouth. "I'd like to see that, myself."

Bruce moans softly, and kisses the corner of Steve's mouth. "Okay." He sounds breathy and a little lost already, and Steve shudders. He pushes the shirt off Bruce's shoulders, kissing them as they're revealed and biting him over the ribs, making Bruce jump and whine. Steve shivers and moves on, unzipping Bruce's jeans and helping him step out of them and a pair of paisley boxers that make Steve smile before gently pushing him down onto his back on the bed. Still holding the leash, he straddles Bruce and smiles softly down at him, leaning down to kiss him again. Tony and Bucky are silent, and Bruce stares up like Steve is the only thing in the world. It's a little frightening, but Steve just kisses Bruce and strokes his hair for a while before digging into the bedside drawer for handcuffs and lube.

"Bruce, honey?" Steve murmurs, "Give me a color."

"Green," Bruce whispers, and moans as Steve cuffs him to the headboard. He pulls against the cuffs once they're locked, testing them. Tony murmurs something to Bucky, but Steve doesn't look over, too consumed by watching and feeling the way Bruce melts under him.

"Such a sweet monster," Steve coos, and Bruce whimpers, rock hard and so helpless . "Do you want me inside you?" Steve asks, and Bruce whines desperately.

"Yes," he gasps, "please, green..."

Steve shudders, and stretches out beside him, watching his face as he strokes his way into Bruce with slick fingertips. It's a slow process, Bruce's body opening for him bit by bit, and Steve is completely absorbed in it, ignoring his own erection as he works deeper and deeper. He can hear Tony and Bucky breathing, both of the mouthy bastards silenced by Bruce's gorgeous vulnerability. He takes his time, and doesn't even think about stopping until he has all four fingers in up to the knuckle and Bruce is making impatient growling noises deep in his chest, struggling to press down harder. He whines dismally when Steve pulls out, and Steve chuckles as he wriggles out of his jeans, hissing at the friction on his hard cock.

"It's all right, sweetheart," he says, easing himself out of his underwear and getting a condom from the drawer, "I'll take care of you." He isn't quite prepared for the desperate, hungry noise Bruce makes, and asks for a color as those dark eyes start to well up.

"Green," Bruce whispers, and moans when Steve kisses him, only getting louder when Steve finally pushes in and tries not to hyperventilate. Bruce wants it deep and hard, and Steve gives it to him as best he can, using all his meager strength. He feels delirious and hyperaware, focused on nothing but Bruce's need, all that tethered strength and heat. Frantic moans spill out of Bruce's mouth, and when Steve can't last any longer between arousal and effort, he squeezes that huge cock as best he can with one hand that feels smaller than ever, and Bruce is coming, quivering under him like a low-strength earthquake, eyes wide and seeing nothing.


	48. The One Where Loki Pulls Himself Together (And Salma Comes Over)

Loki wakes up slowly, feeling confused and content and still wrung out. It takes a long moment for his conscious mind to catch up, and when it does he feels himself flush all over because Thor is still holding him. They're in the same spare room and the low winter sun is slanting in through the windows.

"Fuck," Loki mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. He sits up and runs a hand through his hair, which feels sticky with sweat and old product. He has to take a few deep breaths before he even dares to look over at Thor. He still sleeps like a rock, breathing in that deep and loud way that isn't quite snoring. He's still beautiful, too. Loki gazes down at him for a long time, but doesn't touch. He did once, when they were young. Just his fingers in Thor's hair, but he had felt the guilt of a far greater sin. He closes his hands into loose fists to keep them out of trouble before remembering that Thor probably wouldn't mind. He checks the time and finds that it's half-past eight, giving him plenty of time to pull himself together before Salma shows up at noon. He still hurts all over, but it's manageable. Natasha's insistence on icing down his back seems to have paid off. He pulls on yesterday's clothes and hesitates by the door. It would be just like Thor to wake up in his absence and panic, but he really needs a shower and doesn't feel like going shirtless.

In the end, he manages to get out and find his coat to leave behind without seeing anyone. Thankfully the house is huge and studded with bathrooms, and Loki can bathe his bruised self in solitary peace. There's even a bathrobe, and he starts to suspect that he has been set up. He prowls out as cautiously as a cat, and jumps when Natasha softly asks him if he would like something to eat, having apparently crept up behind him in perfect silence like an extremely sexy ninja. Hot enough in leather pants, she is _devastating_ in pajama bottoms and an over-sized t-shirt. The phenomenal bedhead only adds to it, and Loki bites back an unnecessarily snide remark, put on the defensive by pure adorability.

"Yes," he says instead, like an actual adult human being. His foster mother would be so proud.

Natasha smiles as though she knows exactly what he's thinking, and leads him into the kitchen, where one of Natasha's various men is making coffee. This one is short and blonde and almost as cute as Natasha. It must be some kind of conspiracy. "Thanks, Clint," she says, kissing his cheek and switching on the oven. "We try to have nice Sunday breakfasts. It's a good time for family togetherness."

"I see." He doesn't say anything else, knowing that it would be something prickish. He's glad when Clint finds him something to do. Being drafted into preparing two dozen slices of cinnamon toast is far from the worst thing to ever happen to Loki. He finds the meticulous spreading of cinnamon butter soothing, and doesn't even cringe when Natasha gently mentions that Salma will be coming over later, and asking if he would like to go home to change, or just to borrow some clothing.

Loki wants to go home and hide under his bed, but he understands the need for his presence to reassure Salma, and decides to save himself the trip. A few minutes into stuffing himself with cinnamon toast, other members of the harem come shuffling in. Thor is one of the first, and beams at Loki like a goddamn fool in between inhaling bacon and eggs, but otherwise has the good sense not to bother him.

By the time noon rolls around, the whole collective has eaten and Loki has been introduced to all of them. He has always had a knack for names, and even Bucky, who first saw him as a snivelling wreck bundled up in Nick's coat like a kid, barely able to stand, looks at him kindly and doesn't say anything about that. Thor has some nice fresh laundry that smells like nothing but detergent, which is good, since his pants are the only ones that fit and wearing something with Thor's scent on it might make his head explode. 

Not wanting to overwhelm Salma, Natasha limits this particular little tea party to herself, Loki, Nick, and Thor. Everyone else finds other ways to amuse themselves, and Nick prepares literal tea with a kind of prissy care that makes Loki want to go over and kiss his precious bald head. When the doorbell rings, Thor leaps up and thunders away to answer it, coming back with what must be Salma. Even the height is different, and though Loki had heard her footsteps under the veil, he hadn't realized just how high those heels or platforms had been. Salma is tiny, and she looks younger than she had sounded in the club or over the phone. With her adorable little face visible and wearing a hijab, a tunic, and an ankle-length divided skirt, she's much less imposing. Natasha smiles at her and gestures for her to sit down. "It's nice to see you again, Salma."

"Or to see me instead of my burqa?" she asks with a teasing smile that falters when she looks at Loki. "Are you really all right?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry I didn't say anything when it got to be too much for me." Loki hates apologizing worse than almost anything else, but with sober contemplation, sleep, and talking to Thor again, he knows that he has wronged Salma and must bite the bullet with as much dignity as possible. She still asks to just lift his shirt at the back for a moment to reassure herself, and makes a sad little sighing noise at the sight of his bruises before lowering the hem again and going back to her seat.

"You're responsible for yourself, Loki, but I'm still sorry." She thanks Nick for pouring her tea, and takes a sip after adding a little sugar. "And a bit annoyed with you."

"As well you should be," Natasha says. "Chitauri may be comfortably anonymous, but it's the worst club in the city."

Salma blushes. "I came here for school and still don't know my way around."

Natasha beams, and starts telling her all about Shadowbox.


	49. The One Where Baths Fix Everything

Steve and the others filter in after Salma has had time to talk to Natasha and Loki, drawn by some serious curiosity. Introductions are made and tea is served, and Steve brings out his sketchbook to record their new acquaintance before blushing and asking her how she feels about images of living things.

Salma laughs. "I believe in using your God-given talents to glorify creation. Are you into portraiture?"

Steve feels his face heat up even more even as he grins at her. "Yeah. Dunno about glorifying creation, though."

"Whatever," Bucky says, "you totally do. Don't listen to him, Salma, he's a real artist."

Steve hides his face in Bucky's shoulder for a moment as everyone laughs. "Aw, c'mon," Bucky murmurs, and Clint coaxes Steve out with a cookie. Once he has eaten it and gotten the crumbs off of his hands, he settles down to his attempt to capture Salma's beauty. With a smooth arch to the bridge of her small nose and a bee-stung mouth, she's a lot of fun to draw. He works as the conversation flows around him, feeling secure and loved in a way that reminds him of that little window of time before the group home that he can really remember.

By the time Salma leaves, her phone is full of information about the local BDSM scene, as well as a special promotional code for a discount on SHIELD merchandise. She also has a quick pencil portrait that she is so delighted with that Steve isn't sure whether he should be more pleased or embarrassed. His coursework is starting to stack up the way it always does in spring, and he immerses himself in it while the household flows around him. Bucky takes this opportunity to nap on the couch like an enormous lazy cat, and Steve takes a break from required images and perspective studies to capture the quietly happy expression on Bucky's face.

That entire afternoon and evening are a consolation to remember in the coming weeks. He has only slightly neglected his work, but catching up is an arduous process when nothing looks right and he keeps fucking coughing. It rattles his bones and makes his head ache, but it isn't actually enough for him to quit and get a doctor's note. Not yet, and Steve knows better than anyone else, something he has to fight with Bucky about.

By the time mid-terms are over, Steve is almost living in the studios, with a constant headache and a burning hatred for his own frailty. He stumbles out with his enormous backpack dragging at his shoulders, in a horrible mood and determined to take the bus home and sleep for days.

"Steve!" Natasha waves to him from her car, and Steve is glad to join her. She has clearly just gotten off work, her exaggerated makeup and long purple wig still in place. She's wearing a short dress and the heater is blasting. Steve shivers and curls up in the shotgun seat. "Thought you'd prefer this. Your place or mine?"

"...Yours. Bucky's being a douche and it's making me be a douche and it's this horrible feedback loop that I don't need right now." He coughs again, grimacing.

"I can't promise not to pamper you."

"Just don't lecture while you're doing it."

"That, I can manage."

Steve chuckles, rubbing at his aching head. "Think you can manage to pamper Bucky if he shows up?"

"Of course. That's the advantage of a massive polyamorous leather harem, Steve."

"One of many."

Natasha laughs, and, the sky opens up and starts pouring sleet. Once they reach the house, Steve dashes up to the door, where Natasha has Bruce and Tony undress him and carry him off to a bedroom to keep him warm while they run him a hot bath. They lie on either side of him, warm and comforting and silent. Tony carries him to the tub, and Steve is embarrassed to like it as much as he does. 

Tony must see it in his face, because he grins down at Steve as he lowers him into the water. "Hey, no shame. Being tiny rocks. Thor and Bruce carry me and Clint around all the time, and it's fucking awesome." Steve laughs, and then hisses. The bath is almost too hot, which makes it perfect. He sighs and eases into it, relaxing on an inflatable pillow Bruce has thoughtfully placed for him. "There you go." He turns off one switch, leaving the dim purple lights Clint had installed a couple years ago in a fit of boredom. They're pleasant now, and Steve dozes in the water, muscles he didn't even know he had relaxing. He still coughs, but it's not as bad with the heat on all his aches and pains.

He mumbles, "Come in," when someone knocks on the door. Cracking one eye, he recognizes Bucky, and smiles. "Hey."

"Hey." He sits on the closed lid of the toilet, resting his elbows on his knees and trailing his fingertips in the water. "Sorry I was a dick."

"Sorry I was a dick back at you. I know I've fucked up before, but it has been about two years, now. I actually have learned to stop when I really have to. Which is all the goddamn time."

Bucky sighs. "Yeah." He leans over and braces his hands on the rim of the tub to kiss Steve, his work shirt almost touching the surface of the water. Steve shivers, and nibbles on Bucky's lower lip before he pulls away. "I've been ordered by our beloved mistress to let you alone to soak, and she's probably right. Try not to fall in, kiddo." He ruffles Steve's hair and stands, leaving him alone to doze again.


	50. The One Where Steve Is A Pretty Princess

The decision to put Steve into a dress is an easy one. He emerges from his bath all fluffy and pink and pruney and adorable, and comes to join Natasha in the bedroom. She has removed her own makeup and is her own self in her own hair, leggings, and a big sweater. Pepper is here now, too, slowly dismantling her neat little suit and all her various accessories. Steve beams at both of them, and tells them how beautiful they are with his usual wide-open sweetness. Natasha smiles, and beckons him over, pulling him into her lap.

"I love how tiny you are," she says, and he blushes, looking equally pleased and pissed. "What's wrong?"

"I... I'm always glad to please you," he says, in the quiet and embarrassed tone that he reserves for things that sound 'too subby,' "but I hate it sometimes. I'm so fucking short, and I have these tiny little hands, and..."

"And they're very pretty," Natasha says softly, kissing them. "As pretty as a girl's."

Steve blushes, and Pepper smiles, unbuttoning her shirt. "Definitely."

"I've meaning to ask, Steve. May we put you in a dress because it would be pretty and because Pepper loves that kind of thing?"

Steve laughs, and rests his head on her shoulder. "Okay."

"Not that you don't love this kind of thing," Pepper says, and unhooks her bra. It's fun to watch Steve's brain derail. Pepper goes pink, but makes a bit of a show of stripping down to her panties before putting on one of the myriad over-sized t-shirts available in house with this many men. She gets her hair into a nice, functional ponytail, and they get to work on Steve.

Pepper has some boy shorts that hold Steve fairly well. The delicate sky blue is a good color for him, too, and the lace trim satisfies something deep in Natasha's soul. Pepper finds the matching camisole and Natasha puts it on Steve. "Thigh-highs, Pepper?"

"Yours will be higher than that on Steve."

"That's a good look too."

Steve blushes. "What color?"

Natasha defers to Pepper, who finds a white pair, carefully rolling them onto Steve's skinny legs. Their lacy tops hit just below his ass, framing it perfectly. "There," she says softly, and Steve whimpers.

"Uh... these are washable, right?"

Natasha chuckles. "Of course. I don't buy anything pretty little sluts can't get wet in." Both of them whimper at that, which makes her feel positively smug. She gives Steve's nipples a little pinch that makes him buck and whine, and sets him on his feet so she can get up and choose a dress while Pepper starts on his makeup. She wears tasteful, restrained looks day after day, and so takes real joy in tarting people up. Natasha is a fetish model, and so can apply liquid eyeliner in her sleep.

By the time Natasha joins them in the bathroom, Pepper is painting Steve's golden eyelashes with dark mascara. A little of Natasha's palest foundation has made his skin look too perfect to be real, and Pepper hums to herself as she applies black and silver eyeshadow. The effect in the end is smoky and feline. It makes Steve look kittenish and sweet. A little pink blush on his cheekbones and wet-effect lipstick that nearly matches it complete the look, and they help Steve into a little blue dress that Pepper sometimes wears to be a naughty schoolgirl. On Steve's smaller frame it's cute, the skirt ending just above the knees instead of just below the ass, little cap sleeves and rounded neckline seeming like just the kind of thing Steve might wear if he were a girl. Only then do they let him look in the mirror. He blushes and goes to hide his face in his hands, stopping himself from smearing Pepper's art at the last moment.

"Should we all go down and show the boys how pretty you are?" Natasha coos, and Steve squirms, nodding. She grins at him, and takes his right hand while Pepper takes his left. They lead him down the stairs and into the clattering sounds of Tony and Bruce in the kitchen. Tony is something of a disaster ever after careful training, but Bruce is good at keeping the mayhem to a minimum. Nick is lounging on the couch and making disgruntled faces as Clint and Bucky curse each other with great frequency and at high volume, sprawled on the floor and clutching controllers.

"Fuck you and all your fucking stars!" Bucky yells, and Clint laughs, the wild, evil cackle he saves for when he has utterly screwed his opponent.

"You boys get off my lawn," Nick growls, and then sits up, catching sight of Steve. The others follow his gaze, their colorful cartoon death match on pause. Steve blushes and hides behind Pepper a little.

"Holy shit," Bucky mutters, and Clint just grins.

"I knew they'd get him eventually."

"Damn, do you make a pretty girl," Nick purrs, and Steve shivers, going to sit on his lap. Bucky and Clint join them on the couch, one on either side. Steve cuddles close to Nick's chest, resting his head on his shoulder and smiling at Bucky.

"See anything you like?"

"Everything I like," Bucky growls, and cups Steve's face in his big hands, kissing him deeply. Natasha glances at Pepper, taking her hand and squeezing it.

"They're so pretty together," she says, and Pepper blushes, nodding. Clint looks up and reaches for them. The couch is huge, so they can settle in with him as Steve leaves sticky pink lip prints all over Bucky's face as Nick's hand slides under his skirt.

Clint sighs. "Mmm, sweet, sweet compersion."

Natasha chuckles, and helps Pepper ease herself into his lap.

"Are you guys orgying without us?" Tony yells from the kitchen, and Bucky laughs.


	51. The One Where Natasha And Bucky Gang Up On Steve (Gently)

Steve feels kind of dazed, but in a good way. The others all treat him like an adorable little pet and it's embarrassing as hell, but he loves it anyway. Nick keeps him in his lap, and everyone feeds him dainty little tidbits and covers him in kisses. Bucky barely remembers to feed himself, and Steve doesn't help at all by sucking on his fingers, self-indulgent and shameless. Bucky shudders and thrusts along his tongue for a long moment before Natasha tells him to pull out and eat, that they can ravish Steve after dinner.

"Okay," Bucky says softly, eyes still locked on Steve.

Steve shudders and takes a deep breath before accepting another morsel from Nick and kissing his fingertips. Bruce makes a quiet whimpering noise, watching, and then slides under the table. Clint goes with him a moment later, and they kneel at Natasha's feet so she can hand feed them.

Steve smiles and Tony grins at him.

"Cute, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Steve whispers. He can't really see them because of the tabletop, but that doesn't matter. They're always cute.

"Not quite as cute as you, but you had help," Tony says, carefully cutting meat into tiny chunks and then passing his plate to Nick, who quietly thanks him and starts feeding them to Steve, making him whimper and squirm a little. "Fucking. _Adorable._ Pepper, how the fuck did you make Steve cuter than he already is? That's ridiculous."

Pepper laughs. "Natasha chose most of the clothes. Steve, shall we doll you up again when Thor is home?"

"Definitely," Steve says, and Nick chuckles, kissing his cheek. All the petting and hand feeding makes the meal last longer, but eventually everyone is full and Bruce and Tony have scrambled to get the table cleared. It's Clint and Nick's turn to do dishes, but absolutely no one cares about that right now. Nick carries Steve up to the bedroom, and everyone else files in with them. Steve just lets Nick move him, feeling incredibly lazy and just as fortunate. He's glad Natasha had the foresight to dress him in something washable, because there's already a damp patch forming over the head of his cock, where it's pressed down and still trapped in thin blue fabric. Nick carefully eases Steve out of his dress, and smiles down at him as he passes it over to Bucky.

"God, look at you." He pushes the camisole up, dry, calloused palms sliding over Steve's nipples and making him whine. He glances over at Bucky, and has to close his eyes because Bucky is breathing in his scent from the dress and that's too much to handle right now. Nick just keeps touching him, easy and soothing.

Steve has of course heard of subspace by this point in his life, and realizes dimly that he may be there now. He feels like he's floating, completely passive and trusting, open to whoever wants to touch him. He obediently raises his arms so Natasha can pull the camisole off, and then she's asking him something and he has to hear and understand words, which is suddenly harder than it should be.

"You mind if Bucky and I take over? Nick wants to watch."

"Yes," Steve mumbles, "I mean no, I don't mind. Fuck. Green."

Bucky laughs, taking Nick's place on one side of him, Natasha on the other and everyone else forming a ring of warmth and love around them. Steve shudders and stops worrying about anything, letting Natasha and Bucky do whatever they want with him. They take their sweet time, hands and mouths hard and slow and possessive. Steve groans deep in his chest at each touch, making a kind of low, continuous sound of agonizing pleasure. Bucky is a traitorous fuck and shows Natasha every single weak point she hasn't already found. Steve can't even get it together enough to curse about it, and just whimpers and clutches at Natasha's hair as she bites and sucks at the point where his pectoral muscle becomes his ribcage. She chuckles against his skin and bites him again before latching onto his nipple. Bucky does the same on the other side, and Steve moans, grabbing at Bucky's hair with one hand, the other keeping its grip on Natasha. They fall into a rhythm together, long, firm pulls that travel straight to Steve's cock, making him twitch and get wetter than ever. Bucky and Natasha each grab one of his thighs and hold them open so he can't use them to get any friction.

"So fucking beautiful," Bucky mumbles, and Steve whines, hips bucking. The wet fabric of the panties sticks and slides against him, painful and perfect, and he writhes and moans helplessly, keening again when Natasha reaches down and guides his cock up, so the head rises over the waistband. Bucky takes a glance down and moans, kissing Steve as Natasha sits up enough to pull the panties off, leaving Steve in nothing but smeared eye makeup and a pair of white stockings.

"Fuck," someone whimpers off to the side. It sounds like Clint. Steve shudders and glances over, but can't really see because Bucky's shoulder is in the way. And then Natasha is pushing two slick fingers into him and his eyes flutter shut. Her touch is so assured and so delicate, rubbing and stroking gently, her other hand sliding up and along the underside of his thigh, encouraging him to draw his knees up and open himself even wider. Bucky groans and bites Steve's inner thigh right at the lacy top of the stocking, shuddering as Steve hooks his knee over Bucky's shoulder, digging his heel into his back.

"Here," Natasha is saying, and Steve knows she's talking to Bucky but isn't positive what she's telling him to do until one of his much thicker fingers joins the two she has inside him. Steve lets out a breathy mewling noise that would embarrass him if he could care about that kind of thing right now and squirms, trying to take them deeper.


	52. The One Where Everyone Fucks Steve (Part I)

Bruce is actually a little bit afraid of Steve. Well, afraid of himself, because Steve is little and delicate. He's wiry, but it still feels like Bruce could snap him in half by accident, and he has yet to actually penetrate him with anything but toys and fingers, afraid of his own cartoonish size. But now Natasha is gently asking Steve if he wants each of them to come inside him, and Steve moans and shakes and has to catch his breath for a moment to say yes, emphatic and hungry. She and Bucky are still fingering him, but his poor neglected cock is bright red, jumping with his pulse as no one touches it.

"Bucky first?" she asks, and Steve nods. Bucky blushes, kissing him and holding out a hand for a condom, already used to the certainty that someone will provide. Nick does this time, and Bucky looks over as their hands brush, moaning softly when Nick leans in and kisses him. Nick purrs, nuzzling his neck a little and then helping Bucky get the condom on. Bruce passes him the lube, shuddering a little at the slick sound of it going on.

"Ready, baby?" Bucky asks, and Steve whimpers, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him closer.

"Yes," he breathes, "God, please, Bucky..." His eyes go huge as Bucky lines up and slides into him.

"Fuck," Bucky whimpers, kissing Steve and sinking in as deep as he can go, "fuck, you're so _tight_." 

Steve whines, wrapping around Bucky. "Be quick," Natasha murmurs. "Everyone needs a turn, and we don't want to wear him out." Steve moans at that, plaintive and desperate enough that Bruce has to reach down and adjust himself. He tends to keep his pants on until the last possible minute. It keeps him calm. Clint kisses his cheek, nuzzling along to nibble his ear, making him shudder. As he watches Bucky fuck Steve deep and fast, Clint unbuttons his shirt, sliding his hands into it to pinch Bruce's nipples and tug his chest hair. Bucky comes in a minute or two, not even trying to hold on, just using Steve like a toy. Bruce hears a low growl under Bucky's soft cry, and realizes that it's his own. Clint chuckles, a little breathless.

"God, I can't wait for your turn."

Bucky pulls out slowly, and Natasha gestures for Nick to take his place. Steve whimpers, cock drooling all over his belly. He whines plaintively as Nick presses into him, but Nick doesn't touch his cock. "We need to you to last, baby girl," he murmurs, kissing Steve's forehead and making him whimper and cling to him, skinny legs wrapped around Nick's hips.

"Please, Daddy," Steve moans, and Bruce whimpers, lacing his fingers with Clint's and covering those strong, agile hands with kisses. Daddykink has disturbed and aroused Bruce in almost equal measure over the years, and Clint comes the closest to anyone of understanding.

"Such a sweet girl," Nick purrs, starting to speed up. Steve starts letting out a little voiced gasp with each thrust, and after Nick grunts and groans and ruts into him for an endless moment and then slides out, Natasha stretches out beside Steve and just strokes his hair and kisses his cheek for a while as he catches his breath and comes back from the edge, big tears of frustration standing in his eyes.

"Color, sweetheart?"

"G-green," Steve gasps, "I want it so bad but I want to be good for you, I want to let everyone use me to come."

"Good girl," Natasha coos, kissing Steve's tears away, rubbing a soothing circle on his chest, not touching either tiny, rock-hard nipple. "Tell us if it gets to be too much, love."

"Y-yes, ma'am," Steve gasps.

"Darling monster," Natasha croons, and Bruce whimpers, turning to kiss Clint and then getting up to join the others on the bed. Nick is lounging in Bucky's lap in an armchair, so there's plenty of room. Bruce's pants are tented and wet by now, binding him up painfully. Natasha kisses him and helps him get his cock free as Steve watches, eyes dilated. Bruce hisses and groans and then glances over at Steve, wondering if he's worried about the size. He looks a little awed, but not worried, and squirms impatiently as Tony finds one of the large condoms and passes it to Natasha, who rolls it onto Bruce. "Don't worry," she says softly, "he won't break."

Bruce shudders, and settles between Steve's legs, gazing down into his eyes. "Okay?"

" _Please_ ," Steve gasps. He goes completely limp as Bruce starts to push into him, and those big eyes roll back as Steve stretches and stretches around Bruce's width. "Ohhh..." After what feels like forever, Bruce bottoms out, staring down at Steve's slack face, waiting until he's able to look back. "Okay?"

"Y-yeah," Steve breathes, tightening on him and whimpering. "Oh god..." He groans when Bruce starts to move, and once Bruce is sure that everything is slick enough and that he's not hurting Steve, he speeds up, going a little harder and staying as deep as he can, amazed that Steve can take all of him. Within about half a minute Steve is so melted and passive that he's actually drooling a little, and Bruce sits back, gathering Steve into his arms and taking him along. He's so little and light that Bruce can take over completely, moving Steve up and down on his cock and kissing that wet and helpless mouth. Steve trembles all over, feebly clutching at Bruce's back, heels digging in by his tailbone. Bruce goes a little rougher and Steve squeals, cock twitching and jetting precome. Bruce groans and bites his shoulder hard, grinding into him a few more times and holding him tightly as he comes, growling so loudly that it's closer to a roar.


	53. The One Where Everyone Fucks Steve (Part II)

Steve feels like he could never possibly tense again. He's actually starting to lose his erection, body apparently convinced that he's not going to come tonight and that it might as well not bother. He doesn't care, because everything still feels good, except for the emptiness after Bruce slides out of him. But then Pepper is there, covering his face in kisses and telling him what a sweet boy he is and how good he's being. She asks for a color and it takes Steve a long moment to remember that he needs to say 'green' to make this keep happening, but he eventually does and then she's stroking the tip of her dildo into him, so gentle. It's flexible silicone, much harder than flesh and that's amazing. Steve is dimly aware that if he wasn't so wrecked he'd feel stupid, a scrawny little freak in streaky eye makeup and stockings, clinging to all Pepper's loveliness. But he can't think like that right now. All he can do is moan as Pepper fucks him, setting up a steady rhythm before pressing a vibrator to her clit. It transmits along the toy, but not enough to make Steve come, despite everything. 

He can feel tears welling up in his eyes again, and Pepper kisses him, murmurs comfort into his ear and then stiffens and shudders and gasps, rocking into him for a long moment before sliding out and fumbling to unbuckle her harness. Steve whimpers, and she kisses him again and then Clint is there, cradling Steve's head and tongue-fucking his mouth for a long moment before reaching down with one hand to guide his cock in, not wasting any time teasing when Steve is already so open and wet. He fucks Steve hard and fast, hitting just the right spot every time and making him make noises he doesn't even recognize. They're high and wild and ragged, and after Clint moans and shakes and slides out, Steve blinks heavy eyelids to see Clint and Natasha looking down at him.

"Okay?" Clint asks, and Steve shudders, turning his head to kiss Clint's hand.

"Yeah."

"Ready for Tony, baby?" Natasha asks.

"Yeah," Steve mumbles, and then yawns. "Y'can keep going if I fall 'sleep, Tony."

Tony chuckles, kissing Clint as he moves to take his place, "I'm gonna keep you awake, baby."

Tony is as good as his word, fucking Steve more roughly than anyone else. He gazes down with those wide, dark eyes, utterly focused and obviously not afraid to give it to Steve hard and fast. It hurts a little, but Steve is already sore and aching from holding back, so the sharper pain Tony gives him is perfect, makes him feel clear-headed and more awake. He hopes the high-pitched gasps he's making as fast as he can breathe sound as grateful as he feels. Tony is talking to him, a constant stream of affectionate filth, about how good Steve feels, all hot and slick and puffy and fucked out. How tight he still is, how he's squeezing Tony's cock like he wants to keep it, like he'll never get enough. Steve moans and contracts uncontrollably in something that's nearly an orgasm, even though he's just now getting hard again.

"Fffuuucckk," Tony breathes, hissing in a way that sounds pained. "Goddamn, baby." He leans down and suckles gently on Steve's nipples, which are so sensitive by now that they almost hurt. 

Steve groans. "Y-yellow!"

"Yeah?" Tony asks.

"Gonna come," Steve whimpers, and Tony stops everything, letting Steve snatch back his control and take several deep, shuddering breaths.

"Okay, baby?" Tony murmurs, kissing Steve's cheek. "Not gonna fall asleep?"

"You're such a jerk, Tony," Steve whimpers, nuzzling into his neck and shivering as Tony starts to move again. Faster and faster and then he's shaking and groaning, rocking Steve back and forth for and endless moment before stopping, panting and mumbling in languages that aren't English, sloppily kissing Steve on the face at random as he eases out of him. Steve whines, balls aching.

"One more, sweetheart," Natasha is saying, slotting a sharply curved dildo into herself. "We'll come together, baby, and then you can rest." The external end is shaped to hit his prostate perfectly and then to just press there, making Steve keen in the back of his throat, clutching at Natasha's shoulders as she slots into him so smoothly. For a long while she just lets him get used to the pressure, kissing him and telling him how pretty he is. And then she starts to move, and Steve can't bear it. He writhes under her, tears coming to his eyes again because it feels so fucking good there's no other way to let it out. His cock oozes precome in pulses timed to Natasha's thrusting, and she groans, telling Steve how perfect and good he is, how obedient, and how much she loves fucking his sweet little ass. Steve is past words and can only moan and gasp, but he wants to beg Natasha to come, to tell her to take pleasure from him in whatever way she needs. As it is he just holds on and then there's a barely audible click and the harsh buzz of a vibrator inside him. He sobs and shakes and then Natasha is sucking one nipple and pinching the other and Steve is _gone _.__

__He spasms and screams as it takes over and over in rolling waves. He kicks and claws and finally shudders to a stop, barely conscious. Natasha moans and shakes above him, and then she's kissing him again, petting and praising him as the others move around, gathering toys and Pepper's harness to wash, and rolling him off of the wet spot and onto a clean towel. Steve is half dozing, letting the others move him like a doll as they clean him up and peel off his stockings while Pepper carefully uses some white cream to take the smeared makeup off of his face. Through it all, Natasha holds him, and when everything and everyone is clean and dry, Bucky snuggles in on the other side. There's a general exodus, and someone switches off the light on their way out, leaving them in soothing darkness. Steve makes a soft, babyish cooing noise, and cuddles into Bucky's chest before falling asleep._ _


	54. The One Where Thor Fucks Loki

Staying with Loki for a few days had been the obvious thing to do. Seeing him again is something Thor has dreamt about enough in his life that he needs Loki close enough to touch for reassurance, a warm and living worry-stone. The apartment is all sleek lines and cool colors. It's very much to Loki's taste, but somehow impersonal all the same. The first night he had barely noticed anything about the place, because he had been too busy being with Loki, holding him and kissing him and stroking his hair. He isn't ready for more just yet, and that's all right. He also isn't ready to call Thor's parents, which is less all right, but understandable.

Today Thor wakes up alone again, a note pinned to Loki's pillow reminding him of another early meeting and thanking him for the membraned grapefruit in the fridge. Thor smiles. Loki has always been skinny for the size of his frame, and Thor likes making sure that he eats properly. With that in mind, he gets up, showers, and starts planning dinner as he eats a bowl of cereal to tide himself over. For nearly the past week he has been Loki's acting housewife, and he's enjoying it immensely. He sort of wishes he had a nice frilly dress and a strand of pearls, but that's something for another time.

Deep into the afternoon he finds a shoebox in Loki's closet that turns out to be full of pornographic manga. He grins and flips through a few volumes. He wishes Tony were here, because Tony actually reads Japanese. Still, uncensored quadruple penetration is truly universal.

He's on the couch eating candy and watching soap operas when Loki comes home in the serene consciousness of having gotten just about everything done and knowing that he has something to tease Loki about. Loki grins at him, setting his briefcase down. His shirt is already untucked and partially unbuttoned, his discarded tie tucked into the breast pocket of his jacket for safekeeping.

"Comfortable?"

"Very. There's a roast in the oven."

"Of course there is." He disappears into his room for a bit and comes back in a robe over his pants, settling beside Thor on the couch. "Are those Bumblebees?"

"I order them online," Thor says, offering him the bag. Bumblebees are roughly spherical and striped with layers of banana and dark chocolate and are not sold in America. They're also Loki's favorite, and he plucks one out with those long fingers and starts nibbling it away layer by layer the way he always used to. Thor smiles, and puts an arm around him. "How was your day?"

"The usual. Pushing gold-plated pills. At least everything we make works. You?"

Thor shrugs. "Your laundry is folded and I found your collection of weird hentai. I should probably check in at home soon."

"Nosy bastard."

"I understand quadruple penetration, but I'm not sure about the belly distention and the internal shots," Thor says. It's always fun to make Loki blush. He turns such a pretty pink.

"I refuse to defend my kinks," Loki grumbles, eating another Bumblebee. He does it like a normal person, all in one bite, so he must really be irritated. Thor snickers.

"I always knew you were freaky."

"You're the freak, freak," Loki says, the corner of his mouth turning up. Thor shoves him lightly and Loki shoves back, and soon it devolves into a wrestling match. They slide off the couch and onto the floor, and Thor's natural competitiveness kicks in. Soon he has Loki flat on his back, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists over his head. Loki stares up with wide eyes, lips parted and cheeks flushed. Thor stares back, and shudders, feeling Loki's hardening cock against his own. "Getting hard for me?" he growls, just barely rocking his hips.

"God, yes," Loki breathes.

Thor shifts his grip to free one hand to untie Loki's belt and open his robe. His skin is still like alabaster, and Thor shudders, kissing his tiny pink nipples and glorying in the way he writhes. "Perfect," he mumbles, and Loki's voice cracks in the middle of a soft moan. He growls and ruts hard against Loki, the pleasure edged with pain for both of them. Loki mewls and rocks up into it, mouth hanging open and eyes going glassy. Thor pinches his nipple hard, and Loki keens, shaking.

"Thor," he gasps, "remember how I wasn't ready?"

"Yes."

"Forget all that and fuck me."

"You sure?"

"I've wanted your cock in me since the first time we changed for a sauna together."

Thor groans, kissing him hungrily. "Okay," he breaths into Loki's mouth. "Let's go to bed," he adds in Aesir, because it has more meaning that way. Loki moans and kisses him again before letting him pull away. He helps Loki up, and somehow they manage to stumble their way to the bedroom through all the kissing and groping to spill over the blanket in a tangle of limbs.

Loki has condoms in the right size, and Thor is going to ask him all about that later. For now he forces two slick fingers into Loki, who refused to start with one. If the way he moans is any indication, he was right. He squirms impatiently as Thor tenderly opens him up, and is cursing and begging by the time Thor feels like he's ready and pulls out, lining his cock up against Loki's slippery hole.

"Please," Loki sobs, clawing at Thor's shoulders, and Thor rams home in one thrust, groaning deep in his chest as Loki clamps down on him and wails. Neither of them can last, of course. This has been more than a decade in the making, and Thor just stares down into Loki's eyes, telling him over and over in Aesir that he loves him until he wails and comes all over Thor's hand, because he's coming too, and can't speak anymore.


	55. The One Where Clint Is A Helper (And Gets Fucked By Bucky While Everyone Watches)

Steve wakes up slowly, feeling the way he used to on the first day of summer vaction. He'll have to work to help Bucky keep them afloat, of course, but he is done with school for three months, and he moans happily, curling up around the sweet ache in his belly. Behind him Bucky makes a contented rumbling noise, and those strong arms tighten around him.

"Morning, baby. How you feeling?"

"Goood," Steve says, squeezing Natasha because she's soft and squeezable and smells good.

"Good. We should still get you some kind of nourishing breakfast."

"Mmmmyeah." Steve giggles, feeling hungover in a good way. 

Bucky chuckles, kissing the back of his neck. "God, I love you."

"Love you too," Steve says, and giggles again.

The door opens a crack, revealing Clint in nothing but a Kiss The Cook apron. "Hey. Anyone in here hungry?"

"Steve needs nutrients," Bucky says.

"I'll bring Steve the Slut-Goddess Breakfast, and maybe a sandwich for you?"

"Sounds great."

They lie there for another ten minutes or so, and then Natasha blinks awake, turning to hug Steve. He makes a happy noise and nuzzles into her breasts as she explains the Slut-Goddess Breakfast to Bucky. It apparently involves eggs and a buttery croissant, bacon, and all the fruit ever. It sounds perfect. "Clint invented it for Pepper when she was ravenously hungry after her first gangbang," Natasha says and cuddles them both until Clint arrives with Steve and Bucky's tray. There's a bright red handprint on his bare ass, and he's adorable as he fusses with the tray and takes Natasha's breakfast order.

"This whole waiter thing is a thing, isn't it?" Steve asks, and Bucky laughs.

"You're so good at verbalistics, Rogers."

"Fuck you, Barnes." Steve cuddles back against his chest for a moment before sitting up to stuff his face before it gets cold. 

Natasha just lounges, watching them. "It's nice to have a cute little service sub in the house, don't you think?"

"Totally," Steve mumbles around a mouthful of perfect bacon. "It's just kinda weird to see Clint doing it."

Natasha sighs. "Clint is one of those sweet boys that acts hard in self-defense. You know. Kind of like Bucky."

Steve laughs and Bucky blushes, letting Steve pull him down to kiss him.. "You are sweet," he says softly, and Bucky chuckles, cheeks still flushed.

"Thanks."

A moment later Clint returns, and Natasha accepts her breakfast like a queen with tribute. "Is everyone else fed, sweetheart?"

"Yes, mistress," Clint says shyly, staring down at the floor.

"Then come here," Natasha says, and everyone scoots over a bit to give Clint room to join them. He cuddles up to Natasha's side, blushing furiously as she pets and praises him. It's touching that Clint actually trusts them enough to let them watch him utterly melting at being told that he's a good, sweet boy, and a big help.

"May I?" Steve asks, reaching over to pet him.

"Of course."

Steve smiles, rubbing Clint's cropped hair and tickling him behind the ear like a cat. "You are a good boy," he says softly, and Clint whimpers, nuzzling into his hand. "God, he's so fucking cute."

"I know," Natasha says, beaming. Soon they've set the trays aside and Clint is sprawled across their laps, writhing slowly and looking utterly blissful as they just touch and stroke him like a pet. Bucky unties the apron after a few minutes and they have him completely naked, half-hard and utterly trusting. Steve shivers, and rubs the back of Clint's neck because it makes him groan softly.

"Being part of a harem is awesome," Bucky mutters, and even Clint laughs, turning his head to nuzzle Bucky's belly.

"Clint, baby?" Natasha murmurs. "You want to go hang us a green scarf?"

He shivers and hops up, draping a green scarf over the doorknob and shutting the door before coming back to them. These days the green scarves see more use, because leaving the door ajar can make Steve too cold. He's always touched by the household's little gestures toward keeping him as healthy and comfortable as he can manage, and now he snuggles closer to Bucky's warmth so Clint can stretch out between them and Natasha, cooing happily as she binds his hands to the headboard with another scarf.

All three of them take their time just stroking and holding and loving Clint, and Pepper comes wandering in to watch, and then Tony comes in to fondle Pepper and whisper filth into her ear while she watches. Nick joins them to help Tony fondle Pepper and to whisper filth into her other ear, and Bruce finishes the dishes at last and comes upstairs to kneel at Tony's feet and kiss Pepper's pretty ankles while he watches Bucky fold Clint in half and fuck him deep and slow.

Steve is still pretty worn out, even with the beneficial effects of most of a Slut-Goddess Breakfast, so he gives everyone a farewell kiss and then slips out of bed and out of the room entirely, going to get his sketchbook. Coming back with it, the exterior door opens and Thor comes in, grinning at Steve, sleet beading in his hair.

"Hey." Steve grins, delighted to see him. He hugs Thor carefully, not wanting to get too wet from his damp jacket. "We're all upstairs, you should come."

"I certainly should," Thor says, hanging up his jacket and pulling off his t-shirt to wipe his hair and his face. Steve shivers, reflexively clenching and then hissing quietly at way it makes him ache. "All right, little one?" Thor asks, and Steve blushes, grinning again.

"Yeah. Come on." He takes Thor's hand and tows him upstairs. Bucky is covering Clint in kisses, both of them close to the edge, and Pepper is sinking down onto Nick's cock as Bruce licks them both and Tony struggles to choose one scene to watch.


	56. The One Where Natasha Gets Some Work Done (And Talks To Thor)

Natasha beams at the sight of Thor, and beckons him close for a kiss as Steve settles in to watch everyone, hard as a rock but scribbling away, bless him. Natasha chuckles, and after kissing Thor a few times and running her fingers through his hair she sends him over to Steve, to hold him on his lap and jerk him off while he tries to work. Steve squirms and makes little complaining noises, managing a few more lines on a new sketch before having to set the book aside to writhe on Thor's lap, craning his neck and grabbing that long hair to drag him down into a hungry kiss.

Natasha can only stand to watch and facilitate for so long before she's softly asking Bucky if she can fuck him while he pounds into Clint, and he gasps a desperate 'yes,' looking over his shoulder to watch her slide the bulb of the dildo into herself. Getting started so late, she's the last one to come. Clint goes first and lets Bucky have a few more thrusts before sliding off to recover, letting Natasha push Bucky face-down on the mattress and really ram him. 

Off to the side, she hears Bruce's deep groan and Tony's soft order for him to clean Pepper up now that he's made her all messy, and then Pepper's soft gasps coming quicker and quicker until she cries out in a way that seems to take Bucky with her. He shakes and moans and can only take a few more strokes before he has to roll over and cuddle with Clint, catching his breath.

Steve cries out, and Thor chuckles. Natasha glances over and smiles to see Steve, still flushed and panting with his own climax, sink to his knees and take all of Thor's cock that he can fit into his mouth, dainty hands working the rest.

Nick finishes Tony off with his hand, and then comes to join Natasha, who is biting her lip and working the bulb in her cunt.

"Help you, mistress?" he murmurs, kissing her inner thigh as Thor groans, probably coming all over Steve's pretty face, and while it's annoying not to be able to see, she can't really complain.

"Always," she says, moaning as Nick curls around her, slowly stroking his cock as he licks her clit, the shaft of the dildo brushing his cheek. They're a good team, and come almost together, only staggered by a few seconds.

Nice as it would be to clean everyone up and sleep in an enormous pile, Natasha has work to do. So she makes sure they're all comfortable and then dozes for a bit between Bucky and Nick before hopping up and finding a robe. She takes a last look and one of her many semiconscious headcounts, and then pads off to her office. She doesn't take much work home, but she has product reviews to finish as well as her weekly sex advice column, both of which she's behind on, thanks to fretting over Thor and Loki. As she works, she listens to the little rattlings of her harem putting themselves in order. Running showers and rattling pans in the kitchen, footsteps and other homey sounds.

A light knock at the door makes her look up. "Yes?"

Thor comes in, shutting it behind him. "Don't let me bother you, Mistress." He says it with a little smirk, knowing full well that they've all missed him. She raises an eyebrow and snaps her fingers, pointing to the floor beside her chair. Thor grins, and kneels there, resting his head on her knee and gazing up at her. She smiles back, and strokes his hair.

"Are you and Loki doing well, sweetheart?"

"So far, Mistress." He sighs, pressing into her touch. "I'm probably not spending the night here. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't. Well, I do, but I certainly understand. Whenever you think he can stand it, he's invited here for dinner. And to spend the night with you, if he wants."

"Thank you, Mistress," he says softly, and Natasha smiles.

"You need to find yourself a secondary dom, Thor. Someone sweet and gentle and princessy."

He chuckles. "A little more formality and ritual would be nice, sometimes."

"So would more femdom tea parties, so find someone I can be friends with."

"Now, now, Mistress. There's no sense in getting greedy. For now I'm glad enough to have found Loki again."

"Of course. Take your time with him." Thor nods, and stays where he is while Natasha works, leaving from time to time to get her water and snacks and to see the others, but always coming back.

Despite her best intentions, she can't help but feel a little lonely when Thor leaves to return to Loki. It's ridiculous, since everyone else is home, but it's still there. She feels a lot less ridiculous when she finally gets enough done to justify leaving the office only to find the rest of the house almost deserted. A collection of notes and some new texts on her phone let her know that Bucky has long since departed for work, that Pepper has also had to run in on her day off, Tony accompanying her to buy her a ridiculously nice lunch to compensate for it. Nick and Steve are napping together, but she finds Bruce and Clint making out like teenagers on the couch. They're adorable, Clint straddling Bruce and moaning into his mouth as Bruce's hands scrabble at Clint's fly. His efforts are complicated by the way Clint is grinding on him, hard and greedy.

"Sweet boys," Natasha croons, leaning over the back of the couch, "sweet boys, can we take this to the bedroom?"

Clint finally stops devouring Bruce's mouth, panting. "Yes, ma'am. Bruce?"

"Green," Bruce breathes. His hair is hopelessly rumpled and his glasses crooked and have slid most of the way down his nose.

"Such beautiful boys," she says, leaning down to kiss each one and then helping them stand up.


	57. The One Where Natasha Oversees Clint's Fucking Of Bruce (And Steve Watches)

Steve wakes up slowly, and smiles, snuggling in against Nick's chest where he feels safe and warm and loved. It's nice to have this even when Bucky has to work, and he muses on that for a while before he has to ease himself out of Nick's arms and into the bathroom. Once his back teeth are no longer floating, he discovers that most of the others have vanished on errands of their own. Closer to the main bedroom he hears a deep groan that could be Bruce, though, and sure enough, there's a yellow scarf on the doorknob. He opens it slowly, and almost forgets to breathe.

Bruce is propped up on one of the many wedge-shaped cushions that can be found around the house, usually fulfilling some much more innocent function like letting Steve prop himself up when he's drawing on the floor. Now Bruce's hips are on the high end, and Natasha is sitting at the low end with his head in her lap, her hand in his hair forcing him to curl his spine enough to watch Clint fucking him. He's flushed and panting, and his glasses are still on. The better to see Clint's dick with, Steve supposes.

"Watch," Natasha says, and Steve knows she's talking to Bruce, but he can't look away, either. He shuts the door behind him as quietly as he can, and settles into the nearest armchair. "Good boy. Yes, watch closely. I wouldn't want you to miss any of this."

"M-Mistress," Bruce whines, "ohh..." his eyes are wide and Steve is captivated by how helpless his powerful body looks, trapped between his smaller lovers. Natasha's free hand tugs Bruce's chest hair, and he groans again. This whole time Clint has been fucking him fast and deep, moving like a machine. His skin is just barely dewed with sweat, and he's not panting yet, just breathing, sharp eyes locked on Bruce.

"Beautiful monster, do you love this? Do you love watching Clint pound you?"

"Yes," Bruce gasps, writhing as Clint grinds into him, his eyelids fluttering and his eyes rolling back for a moment before he obediently focuses on Clint's cock again. "Fuck, _yes_..."

"See how deep you're taking him? You're such a good boy."

Steve bites his lip and struggles to keep quiet. They're so beautiful together, and he can't decide what he's most desperate to do. He wants to worship Natasha's breasts where they dangle over Bruce's face, but the muscles in Clint's back are so perfect he wants to lick them, to say nothing of the urge to urge to kiss Bruce's slack and helpless mouth. No one has invited him in, though, so he just watches.

"You want it rougher, baby?" Natasha murmurs. "You want Clint to go rougher? Want to watch him use you to come?"

"Green!" Bruce cries, "Yes, please..." he writhes a little in Natasha's gasp, and she pinches his nipple so hard it makes Steve ache to see it. Bruce moans and melts, though, and his cock twitches, dabbling more precome on his belly. Clint moans, high-pitched and desperate, and starts slamming into Bruce, rocking him in Natasha's lap and jarring his glasses crooked. Natasha carefully replaces them and tells him to keep watching, that he can't miss a moment of Clint using his perfect, tight little hole, that every part of him feels good and that he's her very favorite monster. Steve is honored to witness the way Bruce gives himself up to them.

Bruce is still hard when Clint comes inside him, but he seems to be floating a bit. He's very patient about being shifted off of the cushion and rearranged to end up flat on his back. Clint and Natasha bracket him from either side, and just as Steve is fretting about not being able to see as well, Natasha speaks again.

"Come sit at the foot, Steve."

"May I touch?" he asks, now that he has been spoken to. He kneels on the foot of the bed, staring as Bruce starts to stroke himself with both hands.

"We wanted to just watch Bruce, but you can join in if he lasts long enough for it."

Bruce moans, squeezing his cock tightly and giving himself a slow, hard stroke that makes Steve lose whatever train of thought he had. He just watches as Clint and Natasha whisper in Bruce's ears, everyone watching his hands on that massive cock. He groans, the sounds deep and soft, each one rolling on for a long time as he thrusts up into his own grip. It fascinates Steve, and he jolts a little when Natasha speaks to him again.

"Come help him out, Steve," she says, and moves back a little, leaving a tiny space between herself and Bruce. Steve whimpers, and settles in that space, the only person in the house small enough to fit. His hands look tiny beside Bruce's, and he shudders at the sound Bruce makes. He follows Bruce's lead, and soon he's growling deep in his chest as he comes, a rough, feral sound that Steve can feel.

Natasha praises them both in a breathless voice, and kisses Bruce. It's slow and deep, and she takes her time about it. Bruce looks drugged when she pulls away, and Natasha smiles sweetly down at him. "Beautiful," she says, sounding almost stern. Bruce gives her a wobbly grin.

"Beautiful," he promises.

"Good." Natasha kisses him again, and consigns him to Clint for cuddles. Clint yawns, plucking Bruce's glasses off of his face and setting them on the bedside table. Bruce coos and curls up, tucking his head under Clint's chin and closing his eyes. Clint smiles, and holds him while Natasha pushes Steve onto his back. "I think I should ride you. What do you think?"

"Please," Steve whines, and covers his face with his hands as he blushes.


	58. The One Where Natasha Rides Steve (And Then Brings Up Baby Day)

Clint holds Bruce close, his fingers woven into those wild curls and holding his face to his chest. It's a shame that Bruce is missing this, but he's beyond tired and into mostly asleep and is so cuddly and warm. Clint rubs his back and watches as Natasha sinks down onto Steve's cock, making him gasp and clutch at her powerful thighs. She puts her hands over his and tells him just to lie there and let her work.

It's pretty obvious that Steve is self-conscious about all the hardcore thrusting he can't do, but he's beautiful like this, pinned at Natasha's mercy and staring up at her with huge eyes. He's barely blinking, and Clint knows the feeling, the mind-melting radiance of Natasha at moments like this, and how desperate not to miss a moment of it a person can get.

"Please," Steve whimpers, "please..." He isn't very coherent, but as Natasha slows down and grinds harder on the down-stroke he starts really begging for the first time Clint has ever heard, babbling pleas for Natasha to use him and to be allowed to come and for her to stop because he can't last.

"Color?" she growls, pinning his hands over his head, and he cries out, high and sharp.

"Green!" There are tears in his eyes, and Clint shivers. Steve is so beautiful it hurts.

"Come for me," she says, speeding up again but keeping him deep inside. "Come for me, and serve me after."

"Yes, Mistress!" Steve gasps, and he moans into Natasha's mouth when she kisses him, her dainty pink nipples rubbing his, both sets hard and flushed. Clint shivers, and hugs Bruce a little more tightly. He just snuffles and mumbles, fast asleep the way he tends to be after a hard fuck. Clint pets him, and watches Steve fall apart, his breath coming shorter and shorter until he cries out and convulses under Natasha. She rides him as long as she reasonably can, and then slides off, very slowly. Steve makes a little mewling noise and just lies there, tapped out. Natasha chuckles at him, and pulls out a few wet wipes to get things more under control. Steve wheezes a little, and Natasha rubs his back.

"Inhaler, sweetheart?"

"N-no, thank you, Mistress," he says. "I'm all right."

Steve is better than all right, and soon he's proving it with his face buried between Natasha's thighs. They all have their own techniques, and Steve is learning what works best for him. One of his strong points is definitely pure dedication. He really flings himself into it and follows Natasha as she squirms. He makes little pleased noises that Clint can barely make out under Natasha's moans, and his narrow little body quivers, the knobs of his spine too visible as always. Natasha groans and strokes his hair and rubs his neck and shoulders, telling him what a good boy he is and how sweet his mouth is, that she knew he would be good at this first time she saw him. Steve moans and Clint shivers, because he knows exactly how that feels.

Natasha comes with a long, quiet moan, and finally pushes Steve's head away. They're both flushed and glassy-eyed and beautiful. Clint carefully extricates himself from Bruce's clutches and gets a warm, wet towel and a dry one, coming back to clean Natasha and Steve up. Steve makes a little noise of complaint at the touch of the wet towel, and Clint chuckles.

"Relax."

"Okay," Steve mumbles.

Soon, it's just Clint and Natasha, their adorable boys dead to the world. They sandwich Bruce and Steve between them and talk about work and Thor and the possibility of inviting Loki in and when they should have their next Baby Day.

"I have to assume Thor will sit this one out," Clint says, and Natasha nods, reaching across Steve and Bruce to slide a lazy hand up and down his arm. 

"Am I still taking good care of you, precious boy?"

"Yes, Mistress." He catches her hand and kisses it. "You take very good care of all of us. Even if we're a fucking baseball team now."

She laughs, lacing her fingers with his. "Thanks, champ."

He grins at her, squeezing her hand. "Any time, coach."

They rest a while, and then pull themselves up to see about a late lunch. There's the usual vast array of leftovers, and Clint takes inventory while Natasha makes enough soup for four. It's a mix of leftover curry, broth, some shredded chicken, and other fragments. She's just stirring the last of it together when Steve comes wandering down, wearing one of Thor's shirts and looking so adorable that Clint has to set his pen down and go scoop him up.

"Rogers, you are just cute as shit. I can't even handle it."

Steve sticks his tongue out at Clint. "Bleh. _You're_ cute." He says it like a dire character flaw, and Clint laughs and kisses him.

"Was Bruce thinking about waking up?"

"Sort of," Steve says. "I can go back and prod him when the food is ready."

"Oh, hey," Clint says, setting Steve on his feet again but not letting him go. "How do you feel about Baby Day?"

Steve blinks. "...Is that like Animal Day with age play?"

"Basically, yes," Natasha says. "Come and taste this." Steve obeys, sipping golden broth from the wooden spoon.

"Do we have to be babies?"

"You don't have to be anything." Natasha turns up the heat. "More black pepper?"

"Just a bit," Steve agrees. "I've never really thought much about age play."

"It's a ways off. We can talk about it and try it out if you decide you're interested." She adds the pepper and puts a lid on the soup. "Go prod Bruce, love. I think it's as good as it's going to get."


	59. Baby Day I

Where Steve is unsure, Bucky is outright dubious. He sits at the kitchen table in his dirty work shirt, having drained half his first beer in one gulp. "I dunno, man. I'm just not really sure I even get it."

Steve shrugs, getting up to pour himself more juice. "I know, but we might as well give it a shot."

"I guess you'd be cute in some little overalls or whatever," Bucky admits, and takes a more measured swig.

Steve blushes. "I was kind of thinking of a pretty dress, actually."

Bucky grins, studying him. "Yeah, I guess I could see that."

Steve already feels ridiculous as a grown man. Accentuating his tininess, dependency, and masculinity at the same time would probably make his head explode. In a bad way. But being Natasha's sweet baby girl sounds kind of nice. He tells her so in a phone call the next day, sprawled across his bed and watching Mr. Arbuthnot chomp on a rawhide bone. The dog is here because Mrs. Henderson is visiting one of her daughters, and she didn't want him to be lonely.

"So yeah, I guess for me this will combine with drag. Bucky says he wants to just come along for the ride and be a grownup."

"There's a first time for everything, I suppose," Natasha says, and he laughs.

"I guess so. C'mere, Arby." Mr. Arbuthnot leaves his shredded bone and heaves his fatness up onto the bed beside Steve. Steve laughs again, and scratches his belly. "I'm watching the neighbor lady's dog. Mrs. Henderson, I've probably mentioned her."

"You're such a nice kid, Steve. Old ladies must love you."

He blushes, rolling his eyes. "I just don't get why so many people are so disrespectful. Besides, I'm actually interested in stories about the Depression. And Mr. Arbuthnot is really cute. Aren't you?" he coos, and the dog snorts and wags his curly tail.

Natasha chuckles. "I'll bet he is. Do you have a real persona crafted, or should Pepper and I just find a dress for you and go from there?"

"...I'll trust to your experience, I think."

"All right. You can be my and Nick's little girl with your dear Uncle Bucky. Want a wig?"

"...Okay." Steve can feel himself blushing, and he's glad Natasha can't see it. "Uh... If I just feel stupid I can safeword, right?"

"Right. You can safeword right out of the house, or back into an adult role from which you can play with the adorable babies."

"Okay. No diapers, right?"

"Not as a general rule, no."

This conversation is a very reassuring one, but Steve's stomach is still full of butterflies when Bucky drives them over to Natasha's that weekend. It's a lovely early summer day, the sky brilliant blue and cloudless, and Bucky has the window down, blasting classic rock on the radio. He's so beautiful it hurts to look at him, and Steve squirms to think of being a precious little girl with him around.

"You're sure I won't look stupid?" he asks when they park.

Bucky sighs. "Steve, you're going to be so pretty I'm not sure I can bear it. I will not laugh. I probably won't feel like it at all, so come on."

Steve nods, and gets out. He has the usual bag to stay for a few days, but tucked into it like a guilty secret is his ancient stuffed rabbit, a gift from his mother for his first Christmas. Bucky takes his hand and leads him up to the door. They don't really knock anymore, but Nick opens it for them before Bucky can even get his key out.

"Hey," Nick says, smiling softly. He's in slacks and a sweater, and for once neither of them are black. He looks goddamn paternal, and Steve blushes, hugging his bag to his chest. Nick pats his shoulder, drawing him inside and beckoning for Bucky to follow. There's lemonade in the kitchen, and he pours them all a glass and they go over all the rules. 'Red,' means that you want to drop role and leave the house, where, 'Grownup time,' means that you want to stop being a child but keep playing. They sip their lemonade slowly and double check everything, but then it's time to go change. Nick calls Natasha up from the basement to help Steve into his dress and Bucky into his headspace, and goes to supervise the other babies.

Bruce follows Natasha up, looking big-eyed and helpless, one hand wrapped in her soft, long-sleeved blouse, the other thumb crammed into his mouth. He's wearing pajamas with feet, and he looks stupid and weird and so cute that it breaks Steve's heart.

Natasha smiles at them. "Bruce likes to stay with me. He's Mama's precious boy, isn't he?" Bruce makes a little whimpering noise and hides his face in her shoulder. She reaches back and strokes his hair, the gesture incredibly tender.

Bucky smiles. "Yeah. He is." His voice is soft and fond, and some of Steve's tension eases.

"Come along, Stephanie. I've set aside a lovely dress for you."

They follow her up to the bedroom, where there's a ruffled, lace-trimmed pink dress laid out on the bed, and a wig of long, blonde curls. It looks like the hair of a storybook princess, and Steve has to swallow hard around a sudden lump in his throat. "It's real pretty, Mama. Thank you."

She smiles softly. "Good. Let me help you into it."

Bruce is very reluctant to let go, and makes alarming fussing noises until Natasha gives him the hem of her skirt. "There, baby boy. Don't worry, Mama just has to help Stephanie into her dress. How old are you today, sweet girl?" she asks, pulling Steve's shirt off as he wriggles out of his pants.

"Almost seven, Mama."

"Lovely, you can play with Pepper."


	60. Baby Day II

Bucky is kind of worried that Steve being so cute like this this is gonna turn him into a goddamn pedophile. He's all dolled up in his little pink dress with his little white ankle socks and that ridiculous wig, and Bucky immediately gives into the urge to scoop him up.

"Getting too big for this, aren't you?" he says, like his granddad used to in the few, dim memories Bucky has of the guy.

"No I'm not," Steve whines, clinging to him. 

Bucky laughs, and looks over to Natasha. "Should I take her down to the playroom?"

"Yes, we're all down there. And you can pick the next movie, Stephanie."

Steve beams, and Bucky carefully, carefully carries him down the stairs. Natasha follows with Bruce still clinging to her clothes, and Bucky has to smile. Tony is actually wearing little overalls, and is furiously concentrated on building some kind of elaborate block tower. Pepper is in a frilly blue dress of her very own, having a tea party with dolls, and Nick is sitting on the couch with Clint in his lap, sort of watching the current movie, some CGI thing Bucky doesn't recognize.

"Your new sister Stephanie is here," Natasha tells everyone, "and she's brought Uncle Bucky with her."

And god help Bucky, but all the 'kids' beam at him and it's adorable. He finds himself smiling back. "Hey." He gives Steve another little cuddle and then sets him down. He glances up at Bucky, adorable little face a tiny bit worried. Bucky grins, and gives him a gentle push toward Pepper. "Go and play, sweetheart."

"Okay," he says, and goes over to Pepper, who smiles.

"Hi!" She really does sound childish, nothing like her usual elegant and collected self. It's pretty great. Soon Steve is deeply embroiled in the tea party. Natasha settles on the couch to cuddle her sweet baby Bruce, and Clint wriggles out of Nick's arms to dart over and hug Bucky tightly.

"Hi!"

Bucky smiles, fuzzing that cropped hair. "Hey."

Clint kisses him, soft and quick, and giggles like he has gotten away with something. Soon he has Bucky chasing him around the room in some kind of game of tag. He kisses Clint whenever he catches him, but there never seems to be any change in who's It. At last they flop down in front of the couch, Bucky holding Clint tightly and covering him with kisses while he giggles and squirms.

Nick laughs softly, kneeling beside Tony and helping him build. Tony seems almost like he's in a trance, and Bucky is really glad the basement is big enough that he and Clint hadn't knocked over any of Tony's complicated structures. "You boys calmed down?" Nick asks, looking amused.

"Mmmaaaaaaaybbee," Clint says, and giggles again. On the couch Bruce has forsaken his own thumb for Natasha's left nipple, snuggled almost into her lap. It's kind of freakish and off-putting, but more adorable. Bruce hardly ever looks this relaxed.

Of course, Tony takes this moment to get a little too ambitious, and his tower falls over. Bucky winces at his cry of rage, and sits up, taking Clint with him. Bruce whimpers loudly, pulling off of Natasha's nipple to hide his face in her shoulder. "Tony," Natasha says gently, "you're scaring the baby."

"...Oh." Instantly contrite, Tony scrambles up onto the couch with them, cuddling Bruce. "It's okay, baby," he says. "You don't make me mad. Only blocks."

"We would never hurt you, sweetheart," Natasha adds, and Bruce makes a contented little noise, pressed between them.

"The baby's so sweet," Pepper tells Steve, smiling. "Mama lets me nurse him sometimes."

And Jesus, isn't that a thought. Bucky swallows hard, and Clint smiles at him. "I like to watch them. Pepper is almost as good at taking care of him as Mama."

Bucky shivers. "I bet."

The movie ends, and true to her word, Natasha lets Steve select the next one from the household's collection of kid movies. They actually see pretty heavy rotation outside of Baby Day. The last time Bruce had had a bad day, they had formed a cuddle pile around him and watched 'My Neighbor Totoro;' and viciously mocking 'Space Jam' can make a rainy day just fly by. Now Steve plucks 'Beauty and the Beast' from its place next to 'Land Before Time,' (which is labeled with the same skull-and-crossbones as the strawberry jam upstairs, bless Tony's heart) and Nick starts it up.

Steve has always geeked out on the animation, and now he and Pepper are enthralled, settling onto the middle of the couch and holding hands as they watch. Bucky smiles, and looks around when Tony tugs at his sleeve. "Yeah, honey?" Tony just grins and kisses him, prickly beard a wonderful reminder of who they really are.

"You're my favorite uncle," he says, eyes sparkling with mischief. On the couch, Steve eases himself into Nick's lap, nuzzling his neck, and Pepper shifts closer to Bruce. In Bucky's arms, Clint squirms and demands a kiss.

"You have to keep me and Tony even!' He says it so adamantly that everyone laughs, even himself, and Bucky kisses him like he's trying to taste the sound. Tony wants another after that, of course. Pausing for breath, Bucky watches as Natasha guides Bruce to curl up comfortably in Pepper's arms.

"There," she says softly, "such a good big sister. I love that I can trust you to mind the baby." She kisses Pepper, who moans into her mouth as Bruce sucks gently, her visible nipple red and hard. Bucky whimpers and bites his lip, because fuck, Pepper is hot. 

Natasha smiles at him. "Aren't they pretty?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, a little hoarse. "Real pretty."


	61. Baby Day III

About halfway through the movie Nick had put down blankets for everyone to sprawl on, and it's a testament to how much Steve loves 'Beauty and the Beast' that he holds himself aloof from the incipient orgy until the movie ends. He sits neatly, loving the cool, sleek, rustly feeling of his dress, and taking a really childish pleasure in watching everything work out for Belle and her adorable monster. It's always a bit disappointing to see him turn back into a boring old regular person in the end, and Steve says so as the credits roll, making Natasha laugh.

"Yes. We have our own cute little monster, and we wouldn't want him any other way." She gently taps his nose as he sucks on Pepper's nipple, and he pulls off, making Pepper moan softly, and smiles up at Natasha. 

"Love you, Mama," he says, very softly, and she beams down at him, nuzzling the tip of his nose and then kissing him.

"Love you too, precious baby boy."

Bruce shivers and moans into her mouth, clutching at the back of Natasha's open blouse. She reaches into his pajamas and starts stroking him, very slowly and very gently, as Tony squirms and whines, begging his Daddy to please please suck him, struggling out of his overalls and getting tangled in the straps. Pepper giggles and Natasha kisses her and then gives Bruce a last squeeze before turning to help Tony, telling him not to fuss. Pepper stops Bruce's little whine of protest by offering him her other breast, stroking his hair and cooing to him once he has a good grip, while Nick and Natasha finally get Tony undressed. Bucky is still upright, sitting close by, but he has Clint in his lap, clinging to him and whimpering his name as Bucky covers his neck in kisses and bites.

"Baby," Bucky murmurs, "you're so fucking sweet." Clint blushes at the words, and he's so cute that Steve just has to rise onto his knees and kiss him. Clint whimpers and clutches at Steve, careful of the wig even now. "Let's get you out of that dress," Bucky says, and Steve squeaks and feels himself go as red as Clint did. Bucky grins, and lays them both down side by side next to Bruce and Tony, where Nick has his head buried between his thighs, taking the whole length of his cock and making him squirm and whine as he works lubed fingers inside him.

It's cozy, being piled up this way, and Steve shivers as Bucky pulls the dress up over his head and then completely off, leaving him in little white panties and matching socks. He feels shy and a little timid, drawing his skinny arms across his body as if they could hide anything.

"It's okay," Clint says softly. "You're really pretty, Steph." He turns his head to kiss Steve, and then looks up again as Natasha comes to join them, settling next to Clint.

"Yeah," Bucky says, kissing Steve and then lowering his head to press another kiss over Steve's pounding heart as Nick slides into Tony, growling softly. Tony whimpers and wraps around him, panting softly about how good Daddy's big cock feels inside him. Steve closes his eyes and whimpers, catching his breath. "Okay, baby?" Bucky asks, and Steve nods.

"Green," he whispers, and moans as Bucky strokes his cock. Natasha straddles Clint, moaning softly as she sinks down, her skirt riding up over her thighs. Steve and Clint let out almost the same helpless whine, and Bucky grins.

"Mama's so pretty, isn't she?" he murmurs, kissing the center of Steve's chest, ignoring his aching nipples.

"Yeah," Steve gasps, clutching at Bucky as desperately as Bruce is clinging to Pepper, his moans muffled by her nipple in his mouth. "Bucky, please..."

"What's that, baby?" he teases, kissing Steve's neck, his fingertips trailing a figure-eight around his nipples.

"Buckyyy!" he whines, writhing. Something about the wig and it being Baby Day makes tears feel a lot closer to the surface, and Bucky must see it in his eyes.

"Sshh." He kisses Steve, pinching both sides and holding there as Steve moans and grabs his hair. "It's okay, baby girl," Bucky murmurs into Steve's mouth. "I won't tease you anymore." He lowers his head to Steve's chest, licking and sucking and gently biting.

"Mama!" Clint whimpers, and Steve turns his head, fighting to keep his eyes open to watch as Natasha tightens on Clint again and again, murmuring for him to come, that Mama loves taking care of her boy. Clint sobs and clings to her, coming in breathless silence, grinding up and up into her in that way Steve already knows so well. Natasha holds him for a long moment before slowly sliding off of him. He makes a little noise of complaint, and Natasha just smirks at him, kissing him softly and getting up to grab a box of wet wipes. Clint shivers happily, and kisses Steve, both of them moaning as Natasha cleans Clint up. Once he's comfortable, Natasha curls up behind Pepper, cuddling close as Pepper moans, pressing into Bruce's hungry mouth.

Steve can't hear over Tony's wailing, but Natasha is speaking quietly into Pepper's ear as she slides one hand up her rustling skirt. Pepper cries out, her eyes going huge as Natasha's hand disappears from view. Bruce snuffles and whines, grinding on Pepper's thigh as one hand lets go of her dress to cling to Natasha's blouse.

"H-h-harder, Daddy!" Tony cries, and Nick grunts with effort, really slamming into him now.

"That good, baby boy?" he growls. "You feeling it as deep as you want?"

"Yes! Ohhh Daddy, Daddy, you feel so good!" Steve has never seen Tony so helpless, and he moans, feeling precome beading on the tip of his cock. Tony moans as he comes, the sound going on and on, jolting as Nick keeps thrusting into him.


	62. Baby Day IV

There are more sensitive nipples in this harem than Pepper's, but she does quite well for herself. She can't help giggling a little at the thought, and kisses the top of Bruce's head so he'll know it's not a bad thing. Bruce is such a shy, timid baby that they have be to extra careful with him. He makes a happy little noise and snuggles even closer. He's all hot and hard against her leg, and she moans softly, shuddering as Natasha settles behind her, kissing the back of her neck.

"There's my good girl," she murmurs into Pepper's ear, nibbling the edge of it as she slides her hand up the inside of Pepper's thigh.

"Mama..." Pepper sighs, and shudders as Natasha just barely touches her pubic hair, light and sensitizing.

"I love seeing my babies take such good care of each other," she says, and then pushes three fingers into Pepper, making her let out one of those loud, squeaky noises Tony likes to tease her about. He's too busy to do that now, though. Nick is pounding into him fast and hard, and Natasha matches the pace, fingertips pushed right up into the tiny divot behind Pepper's g-spot that makes her feel like she'll wet herself or explode and not care at all. She whimpers and bites her lip as Bruce nestles even closer, clutching at Natasha. She's a little bit crushed between them and she loves it, feeling warm and protected. "Such a good girl," Natasha says, "nursing the baby." 

She wraps her free arm around Pepper to rub Bruce's back, and he moans, mumbling, 'Mama,' against Pepper's chest. All the while Natasha just keeps pressing over and over, keeping it up even after Nick has to stop because Tony is too sensitive after coming. Sometimes he likes to be fucked long past the point of pain, but that has never been anything he likes to mix with being little. Now he shivers and coos, hugging Nick tightly. 

"Thank you, Daddy," he whispers. Nick is still hard, and Pepper shakes, her mouth hanging open as Natasha's fingers push into her over and over, sharp pleasure radiating out along the extremities of her clit, making her really feel the internal portions. She whines, long and loud, and Tony stares at her with glassy eyes as Nick and Bucky clean him up and arrange him to cuddle with Clint. Pepper wants to kiss him, but they would have to dislodge poor little Bruce, and of course she's not doing that. He switches sides and she groans, pushing forward into his mouth and back into Natasha's hand.

"Mama..." she moans, and writhes when Natasha adds her fourth finger, wriggling back in a desperate effort to take even more. "Mama, open me up, please Mama, make me take it make me take it make me--" she squeals as Natasha's thumb and then most of her hand slides into her. "Ohhh..." Her voice quavers, and Bruce moans.

"Take care of the baby, there's a good girl," Natasha says softly, and Pepper moans a weak affirmative, reaching into Bruce's pajamas. He ruts into her hand with a sloppy, babyish lack of finesse that makes her moan. Looking past him and the sleepy pile of Tony and Clint, she can see Bucky arranging Steve on all fours. The fall of his wig is surprisingly natural, and he's flushed all over, looking over his shoulder at Nick. There's something humiliated and needy in his expression that makes her grind back hard on Natasha's fist, taking it as deep as she can.

"Here, sweetheart," Bucky says, rubbing Steve's back, "open your legs for Daddy." Steve whimpers and obeys, trembling all over as Bucky's hands slide around to pinch both his nipples hard. She can see the effort in Bucky's forearms and groans, clenching hard around Natasha. Nick rolls a condom on, slicking clean fingers to stretch Steve open.

"Daddy," he mewls, and drops from his elbows onto his chest, spine arching as he shoves himself up and back. Nick shudders, and a moment later starts working his cock into Steve, making him shudder and pant, eyes and mouth wide. "You're so big, Daddy," he gasps, and then cries out, eyes falling shut as Nick pushes in all the way, grinding hard, his hands on Steve's hips pulling him back. "Daddy!" Steve wails, and his skinny sides heave as he pants, the tip of his soft, pink tongue just resting on his lower lip as his mouth hangs open.

Bucky shudders, guiding Steve's head up a bit and making him just barely open his eyes. "Please, baby," he says, gripping his hard, red cock and just brushing the head across Steve's lips and the tip of his tongue. Steve groans and struggles to follow, moaning deep in his chest as Bucky slowly slides his cock into his mouth. Pepper watches with wide eyes as Bruce whines, moving faster and faster and finally coming all over her hand.

"There you go," she whispers to him, "yes, that's a good baby." He whimpers happily and she gasps as Natasha rubs Bruce's back again and then reaches between them to work her clit in that special way that's too rough when anyone else does it. All the while she watches as Bucky and Nick fuck Steve from both ends, using him but being so gentle about it, so sweet with their little girl. Steve moans between them, lax and muffled as they run their hands over his pale skin and tell him how pretty he is and how much they adore him, getting more and more incoherent as he whines through his nose, shaking. His untouched cock is actually dripping, and something about that is what takes Pepper over the edge. She bucks in Natasha's arms and tries not to scream, because screaming alarms Bruce.


	63. Baby Day V

Steve moans around Bucky's cock, swallowing him as deep as he can. Nick shudders and gasps, clutching at Steve's hips and pushing just a little deeper, making him moan again, louder.

"You wanna come with Daddy, baby?" Nick asks him, and Steve does his best to nod. He's desperate now, throbbing and aching, and when Nick's hand closes around his cock he comes almost instantly. He has to let Bucky slide out of his mouth and just shake for a while, clenching around Nick over and over as he grunts and gasps, shuddering and grinding hard into Steve. "Oh, baby girl, you're so fucking silky inside," Nick gasps, and then comes in a silent, breathless convulsion, clutching Steve's hips like they're the only stable point in the world. He rests some of his weight on Steve for a moment, and then tips them onto their sides, holding Steve tight against his chest and making a contented rumbling noise.

Bucky chuckles, and pets Steve's wig when he makes a little apologetic noise, not really up to finishing that blowjob. "That's okay, baby. I think Mama and I can take care of each other."

Natasha chuckles. "Yes, I think we can."

Steve can't help a little complaining noise when Bucky goes to the other side of the group, but Nick cuddles him and he feels better. And very sleepy, just like everyone else. He drifts in and out as Natasha rides Bucky deep and slow, her hand resting on his throat but not squeezing as she stares down into his eyes.

"Mama takes such good care of us," Nick says softly, and Steve nods, yawning.

"Yes, Daddy." He snuggles even closer, feeling warm and safe and very sticky. When he wakes up again there's a blanket over him and Nick is carefully cleaning him with wet wipes. He blinks and looks around. Tony and Clint are back in their clothes and deeply involved in some kiddie video game that Steve doesn't recognize. Pepper and Natasha are nowhere in sight, and so of course Bruce isn't, either.

"Where's Bucky?" Steve asks, still feeling much too little to be ashamed of how needy he sounds.

"He went upstairs to help Mama make lunch." Nick wipes Steve dry and offers him his dress. "Here, baby, put this on and go see him."

Steve wiggles into the dress and kisses Nick's cheek before scampering upstairs to the kitchen. He feels a truly childlike need for Bucky right now, and is very glad to see him setting the table for lunch. "Bucky!" Steve chirps, and runs over to hug him tightly. He wobbles a bit with the impact, and laughs, setting down a handful of silverware and scooping Steve up into his arms.

"Hey, sweetheart! You miss me?"

"Yeah," Steve mumbles, pressing his face to the crook of Bucky's neck. Even for the age he's pretending to be this is babyish, but he doesn't care.

"Then I'm glad you found me." He rocks Steve a little. "We're having bruschetta and soup." Steve's stomach growls on cue, and Bucky chuckles. "Yeah, that's what I said. Mama and Pepper are making a lot."

"Good." Steve sighs, squeezing Bucky tightly and then sliding to the floor so he can finish setting the table.

"Thanks, honey," he says, and picks Steve up again, carrying him into the kitchen where Pepper is stirring an enormous pot of soup and Natasha is sitting on the floor with Bruce, who's nursing again and clutching at her blouse. "Aw, is the baby upset?"

"He just needed extra cuddles," Natasha says, petting him. "Didn't you, little one?" Bruce sort of nods.

"Mama, I need you to see if the soup is done," Pepper says. She's wearing an apron over her frilly dress, and Steve wonders if they can get him one.

"Bruce, baby, Mama needs to get up." He lets her nipple out of his mouth and they both stand. "Go give Steph a kiss for Mama, okay?"

"Okay," he says, and lets her go. As she checks on the soup, he comes over to Steve and kisses him softly. It's gentle but not very chaste, and Steve whimpers a little, trembling in Bucky's arms. Bruce pulls away at last and smiles. Steve smiles back.

"After lunch you should mind the baby for a bit, Steph," Natasha says, turning the soup down.

"Yes, Mama," Steve says, squirming a little.

Pepper runs down to the basement to collect Daddy and their little brothers, and Natasha serves the food, sitting beside Bruce and cutting his bruschetta into little bits and making sure that his soup isn’t too hot. Nick gets Clint and Tony to wash their hands, and Bucky pours juice for everyone. It's cozy and a lot like actually being a little kid. Steve giggles and kicks his feet a little, leaning on Bucky, who smiles down at him.

"Hey, princess. Enjoying your lunch?"

"Yeah," Steve says, nuzzling him a bit before getting back to it. The bruschetta is crispy and flavorful, and the soup is rich and filling. Both of them are full of fresh vegetables, just the kind of thing one might give to growing children. Tony tries to build a tower out of bruschetta because he's a pain, but Nick gently disassembles it and coaxes him to stop fussing and eat each component. Natasha holds Bruce's bowl for him, helping him sip the broth and then setting it down again to feed him the solid pieces. Long over his own initial fit of nerves, Steve can admit to himself that Bruce looks weird and adorable and not stupid at all. He smiles at him, and Bruce smiles back.

After everyone is fed and things are mostly put away, they go back downstairs, where Steve settles onto the couch and takes Bruce into his arms. He's a big baby, but a very cooperative one. Soon he's cuddled in against Steve's side, nuzzling his chest as the ruffled skirt spills over their laps.


	64. Baby Day VI

It takes so much trust for Bruce to willingly regress, to let himself be little and helpless and dependent. When he really was these things, he lived in fear, and even now it can be hard to believe that no one will hurt him. Once he's down, though, it's okay. If he gets scared someone will cuddle him. If he's sad someone will comfort him. There's no hitting and hardly even any yelling, and his Mama is always there. Now he's snuggled up to Steve, though, and that's about as good. His big sister Steph, who will take good care of him. He sighs, nuzzling his face into the smooth, pretty pink fabric of her dress. It's all slippery-smooth like Pepper's dress, and he giggles.

"Like that, baby?" Steph asks, and Bruce giggles again.

"Yeah." He plays with her skirt for a while, enjoying the rustling sound it makes. He can play with it as long as he wants and no one will hurt him. It's nice. He holds the ruffles and lace up to his face to feel how crisp they are, and then hides his eyes for a moment before peeking out at the room. Tony looks back at him, smiling. He's reading a comic book, but stops to play peek-a-boo with Bruce for a while, hiding his face behind the open cover. He sets it down and crawls over when they get tired of peek-a-boo, and Steph ruffles his hair.

"Playing so nicely with the baby," she says, and Bruce coos, leaning down for a kiss. Tony's face is always prickly, but that's okay. It's kind of like the lace. He pulls away to read his comic again, though, and that means that Bruce's mouth has nothing to do. It makes him feel fussy, and he squirms. Steph clucks and coos at him, rocking him and stroking his hair and all of it is nice but it's not what he wants. 

He starts chewing on her dress, and Mama says, "Oh, he wants to nurse. Here, Steph, let me help you." She finishes braiding Pepper's hair and kisses her cheek, coming to stand behind the couch, leaning over it to open the front of Steph's dress. She runs her hands over Steph's chest and pinches her pretty pink nipples before guiding Bruce in to suckle. It's as comforting as always, and soon he's settled, mumbling in his throat as he sucks on one side and then the other, feeling sleepy and warm and losing track of time. Steph holds him close, trembling a little as she strokes his hair and rubs his back. She rocks slightly, and tells him softly what a sweet baby he is, and that she loves him.

"Sweetheart?" Mama asks, sitting on the couch beside them.

"Mm?" he blinks fully awake and looks over his shoulder at her.

She smiles, patting his back. "Little lovemonster. Do you want your pretty sister to take care of you?"

Bruce hadn't really noticed that he was hard, just feeling good all over, but now the urgency comes into focus. "Yeah!" 

He wiggles, and Steph and Mama both laugh, covering him in kisses and making him laugh, too. Mama opens his pajamas and guides Steph's hand inside. Bruce likes Daddy's big hands and Tony's rough ones, but Mama and Steph have little smooth hands that are extra gentle with him. He moans and goes back to nursing, knowing that they'll take care of him. He drifts again for a while, and then wails, mouth hanging open against Steph's chest as she squeezes him just right, cooing praise and encouragement. Mama cleans him up and puts him down to nap on the couch as Mama takes care of Steph, making her make sweet little gaspy noises that make his tired body hum and ache a little.

He wakes up again in time for dinner, and Daddy helps Mama feed him. He can't help but be shy with Daddy because he's so big and daddies are kind of scary, but his Daddy is always gentle with him. Now he smiles at Bruce. "There's my littlest baby boy," he says quietly, and kisses the top of Bruce's head.

"Love you, Daddy," Bruce says softly, and Daddy kisses him on the mouth.

"Love you too, honey. So much."

After dinner Bruce and Daddy play with stuffed animals. Steph joins in, making her old white rabbit hop along beside Roar, Bruce's monster plush. Before too long it's time to go to bed, and Bruce nurses one last time before Mama gives him a cup of warm milk. There's a sleep aid in it that doesn't conflict with Bruce's existing medications, and he starts to yawn within minutes. Daddy kisses Bruce goodnight, and Mama takes him upstairs to bed. Steph comes too, so she'll know about tucking Roar in beside him, and the nightlight and the lullaby. Mama sings it twice over, and they stay with Bruce until he's really asleep.

For Bruce, Baby Day is less clear-cut than it is for the others. The next morning he wakes up alone and almost cries. He hugs Roar tightly and gets up, looking out into the hallway. "M-Natasha?"

"Coming!" she calls, and she may be wearing shorts and a tank top, but she's mostly Mama when she comes to give him a hug, a kiss, and some juice. He guzzles it, the sugar cushioning his system enough to get his meds down. The routine reminds him of who he really is, but he keeps Roar in his arms when he goes down to breakfast. Almost everyone is there, and Pepper starts loading a plate for Bruce the moment she catches sight of him.

He smiles. "Thanks." His voice is still small, but steady.


	65. The One Where Everyone Recovers From Baby Day (And Thor Comes Back)

Steve is feeling a little strange today, and he's not the only one. Everyone is a bit fragile, and there's a feeling in the air like post-holiday letdown. Bruce seems the most affected, and they all do their best to be very kind to him. He carries Roar with him all morning, and eventually vanishes into the basement with Tony to play some kind of fiendishly hard educational game that they find soothing. Pepper goes back to bed simply because she can, and Clint runs errands because it makes him feel like a grownup. Natasha slowly shifts out of Mama mode and vanishes into the office for similar reasons, and Nick kicks back on one end of the couch to read.

Steve settles beside him to sketch and to try to force himself to think about this year's summer job, something he really doesn't feel like doing. His mood doesn't improve when Bucky has to go to work. He follows him around while he gets dressed, and clings a little when Bucky kisses him goodbye.

"Cheer up, princess," he says softly. "I'll bring you something nice."

Steve manages to smile for him, but feels so close to tears after he leaves that it alarms him. He scrubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand and then jumps a little as Nick puts his arms around him from behind. "It'll be okay," he says softly, and Steve whimpers and clings to him. "Aw, honey," Nick purrs, and leads him back to the couch, holding him in his lap and rocking him just a little. It's embarrassing, but makes Steve feel better. He cuddles in against Nick's chest and sighs. "You wanna chew on my shirt? It helps Bruce relax."

Steve chuckles. "I think I'll be okay." They sit in comfortable silence for a while before Steve speaks again. "Doesn't it embarrass him?"

"Some," Nick admits, stroking Steve's hair, his touch heavy and gentle at the same time. "We just let him know it's okay. Because it is."

"...You're good at that," Steve says, plucking at the cuff of the sleeve on the hand that isn't petting him. It might be nice to chew on, at that, but now he's committed to not doing it.

"Thanks." He kisses the top of Steve's head. "I try."

By early afternoon Steve feels like himself again, and soon after that Tony and Bruce come up from the basement talking about some theoretical application for ionizing radiation. Lunch is more adult and normal than breakfast was, and at the end of it Natasha gets a call from Thor.

"Yes, we're all well.... Of course, darling. ...Yes. Love you." She hangs up and smiles at them. "Thor is coming back, and Loki will be spending the night."

Steve feels weird about how weird that doesn't feel. He'll be delighted to see Thor again, and the idea of getting to know Loki in something a little closer to the Biblical sense is an exciting one. It might be because Ma was Catholic, but he feels like he should feel guilty about being so keen to fuck yet another person who isn't Bucky. Then again, the idea of Loki's lean white limbs wrapped around Bucky's bulkier frame and golden skin is its own reward.

"Thinkin' deep thoughts?" Clint asks, and Steve feels himself blush. He had returned to the couch, bringing the Classifieds with him in a fit of good intentions only to end up looking past them as he zoned out.

He sighs. "I just... I guess I feel like greedy, or something. It seems like bad form to be looking forward to having Loki here, when I already have all of you."

"Well, nothing of the kind may happen, you know," Clint says, and then leers. "Besides, it's not like I'm not thinking thoughts of my own." Steve's flush deepens, and he hides his face in his hands as Clint laughs and puts an arm around him.

"We'll take it slow, and if he joins, he joins. If he doesn't, he doesn't. Just like with you and Bucky."

Steve leans into him. "Yeah." He has to swallow around a lump in his throat. "I love you," he adds, suddenly not sure if he has ever said it just to Clint, out in the waking light like this.

Clint smiles, and kisses his cheek. "I love you too, Steve."

Pepper comes shuffling down the stairs, and Clint calls, "Pepper, baby?"

She turns to them, smiling sleepily with the sun making her hair look like fire. "Yes?"

"I love you. Thought you should know."

She yawns. "It's kind of you to remind me." She comes over and kisses them both, telling them that she loves them in return and then asking if they want coffee, because she does.

They do want coffee, even if Steve takes his like a little kid, with more milk than coffee because too much caffeine is bad for him. Clint digs out some cookies and Pepper makes three pots of coffee, which turns out to be fortuitous because Thor shows up when they're done. He takes his coffee in the traditional Asgardian manner: black, syrupy sweet, and in volume. He beams at the scent in the air and hugs Pepper, Loki slipping into the house behind him like he's hoping not to be noticed. Dressed almost entirely in black, he makes Steve think of a shadow. Pepper takes his hand as soon as Thor lets her go, introducing herself and asking Loki how he likes his coffee.

"Black, please," he says, looking a little dazed. Steve understands. Pepper has that effect on all of them.


	66. The One Where Tony and Loki Make Out

Loki wants to make a good impression, and he really hates that. Caring is bad enough, but in this case it's hopeless. He was first brought into the house as a helpless charity case, scooped up like a lost cat. Still, being put-together helps, and he wears a tie. Loki actually likes ties. They're something sort of comforting about the slight pressure on his neck, and in the stiffness of the fabric, like rich armor. He stands at the mirror making sure the knot is perfect while Thor finds all his various small items. They're scattered across the apartment because Thor is still a slob, a thought that fills Loki with affection.

"Snowflake?" Thor calls, the old-fashioned, sugary Aesir endearment touching Loki so deeply it exasperates him.

"What?" He snaps in English, looking around as Thor comes in, grinning at him. He wraps his arms around Loki's waist, pulling him back against his chest.

"I was looking for my wallet, little brother," he murmurs into Loki's ear, still in Aesir because he's a dick and because Loki was stupid enough to tell Thor what the old kinship term does to him. He growls quietly, the sound deepening into a groan as Thor nibbles his ear. "Don't worry," Thor says, his breath hot on Loki's sensitive skin. "They'll welcome you."

The words ring in his ears all the way to Natasha's house, and it's not just sensory memory. Not many people have ever welcomed him in the Aesir sense of the word, which implies an almost familial genuineness and lack of reserve. He has a hard time believing that this sprawling harem Thor belongs to will embrace him so easily.

And then they walk into the house and a beautiful redhead who isn't Natasha welcomes them in for coffee. She's so exquisite that he stops worrying for a moment. Thor is of course delighted to be home, bounding away to hug Steve and Clint, who are even cuter than Loki remembers. He sips his coffee and listens as Pepper explains who's here and who isn't. Loki remembers most of the names, and is pleased to be able to see the full roster in action. Each is beautiful in their own way, and Loki is torn between wanting them to like him and immediately going into full asshole mode so they'll reject him and get it over with. The therapist they made him see when he was Thor's brother had told him to work on that, and much as Loki had hated the old cow, he has been trying to deal with his many intimacy issues.

Steve starts sketching him and Nick looks him up and down with his good eye, not saying a word. Loki wonders how he got those scars and what they'd feel like under his tongue, if Bruce's cock gets even bigger when it's hard. He glances sidelong at Thor, and Thor grins at him like he can see every thought in Loki's head. Dumb as Thor can be, there are times when he reads Loki's mind. Everyone sips their coffee and asks him questions about work and books he has read lately and how adorable Steve is when he's concentrating so hard on his art that he doesn't notice it when people talk about him.

"There," Steve says, still oblivious to that last, and shows Loki the page. "I think I did your eyes kinda crooked and your nose is a little off, but the mouth is dead on."

The eyes are a little crooked, but for the time Steve took about it the finished product is amazing. "I can't be sure of either, but it's excellent for a quick sketch." Steve beams at him and it makes something flutter in his midsection. He glances away and tries not to blush, feeling like an idiot. Thor squeezes his hand under the table.

"Look, the tension is killing me," Tony drawls, "does anyone wanna fool around?"

"Generally," Natasha says with a sharp look at Tony, "in this house we talk a bit about safewords and contracts before that."

"C'mon, mistress! You think Thor hasn't told him anything about how we work?" Tony glances to Thor for confirmation, and he nods.

"I have, mistress," he says, "I would love to see Loki and Tony together."

"All right," Natasha says, with the air of a teacher graciously allowing an extension, '"but nothing past second base until we talk.'

He rolls his eyes. "God, you're so responsible! I love you for it," he adds, sounding flip if Loki didn't know exactly what to listen for. 'Done with your coffee, little brother?" He slides into flawless Aesir at the end, and Loki shudders.

"Yes,' he says, before Thor can get protective or Natasha can decide to attempt some kind of discipline. Tony grins at him, and stands, extending a hand. "To the couch, where such things are done?'

"Of course." Loki takes Tony's arm in the most ladylike way he can manage and lets him lead the way. He's little, but very solid, with a springy energy that's almost vibration. 

He sits Loki down on the couch and then climbs into his lap, murmuring, "Say 'red' if you mind," into his ear. 

Loki does not mind, and in fact whispers, "Green," as he grabs that delightful ass in both hands. Many types have their place in his heart, but he has a special affection for curvy men. He tells Tony so between silky-prickly kisses, and Tony chuckles, nibbling at his lower lip and settling even closer, tortuously not grinding.

"Glad you like it, honey," he says with a smirk, arms looped around Loki's neck, thighs giving his hips a friendly hug. He's nowhere near truly hard yet, but definitely on his way. Loki shudders, and lets out a little gasp when Tony bites his neck. It's humiliating, but that's okay. It just warms his skin and makes his heart beat faster.


	67. The One Where Steve Gets A Little Babyish While Making Out With Thor

Steve is fascinated by Tony and Loki together. There's something similar about them in spite of all their physical differences, something in the way they move and touch each other, a challenging playfulness that makes Steve think of wrestling with Bucky back before he knew he was queer. Knew either of them were queer, he corrects himself, glancing at Bucky and smiling. Bucky is staring just as much as anyone else, and has to reach down and adjust himself where he's already half hard.

Just when the two of them reach the kind of fever pitch Steve associates with people who were popular enough to do anything in high school, Natasha briskly claps her hands twice, startling everyone. Loki blinks at her over Tony's shoulder, eyes wide and luminous and feline.

"Time for paperwork, boys."

Tony rolls his eyes and grumbles, but gets out of Loki's lap with only a chaste kiss on the cheek by way of farewell. Loki sighs, stretching his arms over his head with an elaborate show of languor that Steve knows he doesn't feel. And not just because he's hard, either. He's flushed and dewed with a light sweat, and there's something needy in his eyes that gives Steve the fierce urge to grab him by the hair and _make_ him admit it. Natasha catches his eye and gives him a smile so knowing that Steve blushes and looks away.

Loki goes over his contract in the living room just like Steve and Bucky did, lounging on Thor and occasionally asking him a soft question. He has fewer, having been into kink for a while longer. It kind of breaks Steve's heart that most of his limits seem to involve aftercare. He only wants Thor around when he falls apart, and Steve is hoping that will change, because he loves helping people come up.

After almost an hour of checking boxes and poring over the rules, Loki slides the contract across the table to Natasha. "Miss, may I please stop being blue-balled now?" he says in his best schoolboy voice, and Natasha smiles at him.

"Yes, dear. You may. Would you like to go back to Tony?”

“What d'you say, Loki?” Tony says, grinning. “Do I need to buy you a drink first?”

Loki chuckles, the sound dark and touchable. “No, but are you enough of a switch to be any fun?”

“Is that a challenge?” Tony coos, eyes sparkling.

“Maybe,” Loki says, still lounging in his chair and studying Tony through his eyelashes.

“Please, take it as one,” Thor says, and Loki actually blushes. It's adorable. 

Tony chuckles and crawls into Loki's lap again, grinning down at him. “Hey.” He kisses the tip of his nose, making him laugh, and then kisses him on the mouth again, cupping his face and holding him there as he tongue-fucks him. Steve knows the feeling, and squirms in his seat.

“Come, little one,” Thor says, and scoops Steve into his lap, sliding a big hand under his shirt. “Shall we give them something to inspire them?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, and moans into Thor's mouth as he gets started on kissing him senseless. He loses track of the others for a bit, but is sharply reminded of them when Clint kisses the back of his neck, and lets himself be towed down to the floor where Tony and Loki already are, the rest of the harem watching intently.

It's interesting, because Tony really is pretty deeply subby, but after a few smart remarks and a spirited counterattack Loki starts to melt under him, and soon Tony has his wrists pinned, grinning down at him. “You're cute like this, you know?” he says, and Loki whimpers quietly, going pink up to his hairline. “Really cute,” Tony adds, and kisses him again, grinding against him a little and making him writhe. Thor reaches over Steve and under Tony to push up Loki's shirt and rub a soothing hand up and down the insanely white skin of his belly. Pepper and Natasha both have darker skin, and even Steve does. 

Loki really does look like ivory or alabaster, and Steve vows to make an ink portrait of him as soon as possible. For now he sneaks under Thor's baggy shirt to suck and bite at his nipples, enjoying the closeness and the subtle compression of the cotton against his back as well as the way Thor growls and then moans. He can hear the soft sounds of the others arranging themselves, and sighs, hugging Thor tightly around the waist and tangling their legs together to rock against his thigh. The soft, loose pajama pants he's wearing feel good, and he has plenty of room to move in them. He can just hump Thor's leg and be all covered and restrained, everything soft and warm. 

It's like being little, and he speeds up, thrusting harder, soothed and desperate to come at the same time. He can hear Loki moaning softly, and Tony and Natasha talking to him quietly. The others are just soft rustling noises and little wet sounds, and Bruce's occasional low groans.

When Thor reaches for the hem of the shirt, threatening to end Steve's happy world of muffled white, he bites him sharply on the right side of his ribcage. “No!” it comes out in his little voice, and he's glad no one can see his face.

Thor yelps, and then laughs, patting Steve through the fabric. “Forgive me, little one,” he says, rubbing Steve's back and tugging the shirt even lower. “Do my pants stay on as well?”

“No,” Steve says, licking the mark he just left in apology. Thor chuckles, and wriggles out of his jeans, hard and warm against Steve's thigh, a little wetness soaking through the flannel between them. A moment later Thor peels off his briefs and starts to move against Steve with intent.


	68. The One Where Bucky Comes Home From Work To Find Them Orgying Without Him (And Doesn't Mind)

Bucky is tired, hungry, and dirty when he gets off work, and delighted to see Thor's car parked in front of the house. They avoid looking too much like a perpetual house party by most of their unemployed layabouts sharing one car, so there's still plenty of space for Bucky to park. He heaves himself out of the car and shakes grit out of his clothes, trying to decide if he wants food or a hot shower more.

He has just decided to shower as fast as possible and then eat when he opens the front door and realizes that they're orgying without him. He can't help but feel a _little_ left out, but he's not really in the mood to insist on his share. Loki's pretty gorgeous, flat on his back and flushed and as Tony jerks him off and Natasha and Pepper keep his hands pinned, and Steve is even more beautiful, cuddled up inside Thor's shirt as he rubs his back and watches the action. He has his choice, since beyond the Loki group Bruce is propped in Nick's lap, resting his head back against his chest with his chin tipped upward to meet Nick as he cranes his neck down to kiss him, kissing him desperately while Clint fucks his mouth on his cock..

“Bucky!” Thor calls, glancing up and sounding delighted Steve pokes his head out of Thor's collar like a pet mouse or ferret, and Bucky grins.

“Hey, guys.” He crouches to talk to Steve as the others keep going, Natasha just flashing him a bright grin. “Hey, baby doll. I didn't forget to get you a present.”

Steve beams back like a little kid, and then wiggles out of Thor's shirt, sitting up. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

Steve stands on tiptoe to give Bucky a quick kiss without getting dirty from contact with his work clothes. “Go on and shower, I'll fix you something.”

Thor looks utterly torn between following Steve into the kitchen to bask in his presence and be fed tidbits, and to stay and watch. Bucky understands, tempted to linger even in the face of his incipient heat rash, exacerbating layer of grit, and ferocious hunger. Steve gives him a gentle push, though, and he goes upstairs to shower, because that's the good one, with the best water pressure and the moveable head. It can be a very nice place to linger and jerk off, but today Bucky just blasts himself clean with cool water and then turns up the heat only a little to scrub himself, gentle with his irritated but rapidly calming skin. They have hypoallergenic soap here for Steve, and Bucky uses it now.

Soon he feels so much better that the hunger is really unbearable, and towels off as he heads downstairs, since the only person here who hasn't already seen his dick is Loki, who doesn't seem like the type to mind it. He's still busy anyway, begging Natasha to be allowed to come in a wrecked, hoarse tone that makes Bucky shudder. Bruce is clutching at Clint, and Bucky hangs around to see him come with a monstrous, roaring groan, nearly choking Clint and taking up so much space in his mouth that come drips off of his chin. Bucky shivers, and forces himself to go the rest of the way to the kitchen, where Steve is artistically assembling a sandwich and an enormous pot of soup is warming on the stove as Thor stirs it. 

They both look so domestic that Bucky has to kiss them even before accepting his own bowl of soup (heated first and alone in the big pot so it would be ready when he came down, bless Steve) and the sandwich, made exactly how he likes it, with the good brown mustard instead of that horrible yellow crap for kids. Steve and Thor both just giggle at the kisses and his subsequent thanks, and tell him to eat before the soup gets cold. It's easy to obey, but even he looks up at the wail Loki lets out when he comes. Clint and Nick are both quieter, so Bucky isn't surprised to see them come slouching in with big, silly grins on their faces a minute later. Bruce is trailing a little behind, looking happy and sleepy and holding Clint's hand.

“Hey, we got Loki so good he doesn't wanna move,” Tony yells, “can Thor deliver!”

“Of course!” Thor booms back, and takes four portions over. Bucky is busy swabbing his bowl with his last bite of sandwich, and has just gratefully accepted seconds from Steve when Pepper and Tony come in with their food and Natasha's, Thor in tow and looking a little sad.

Bucky blinks at him. “What's wrong?”

“He's just being emo because Loki wants fifteen minutes alone before any cuddles. He said you could come in then, Thor, cheer up,” Tony says, sitting beside Bucky and kissing his cheek before returning to his lunch. Thor sits on Bucky's other side, and Bucky puts a soothing arm around him as Pepper finds a seat by Nick and Natasha comes in a moment later, thanking Pepper and Tony for carrying her food and letting everyone know that half an hour from now Loki will be willing to accept non-Thor company and cuddles.

Once those first fifteen minutes are up, Thor hops to his feet and leaves his plate in the sink, almost running to the upstairs guest room where Natasha left Loki. Bucky smiles softly, touched by Thor's obvious devotion. “He really is a sweetheart, isn't he?” he says quietly, and Steve smiles at Bucky from the across the table where he's resting his head on Clint's shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says. “He is.”


	69. The One Where Natasha Collects Bucky And Steve, The Better To Get Pepper Off

Steve has missed Bucky, and so when the half hour is up and everyone has washed the dishes and gone upstairs to lavish Loki with all the aftercare he tries to deny himself, Steve stays behind and cuddles with Bucky on the couch. He'll want to get off eventually, but for now he's digesting and snuggling Steve.

“I missed you today, princess,” he says very softly, kissing Steve's cheek and making him wiggle happily.

“I missed you too,” he says, taking Bucky's hand and lacing their fingers together as he nuzzles Bucky's neck. “What did you bring me?”

“Right, it's present time, isn't it?” he says, chuckling. “It's in my shirt pocket, go get it.”

Steve grumbles and gives him another hug before hopping up and fetching a tiny paper bag out of Bucky's work shirt. It's gritty, but still tightly closed, and he carefully brushes it off and climbs back into Bucky's lap to open it. It really is like being a kid, and he blushes when he pulls out a tiny silver tone bracelet with a miniscule palette-and-brush charm.

“The whole thing was five bucks at a drugstore,” Bucky says, sounding a little self-conscious as he helps Steve put it on.

“It's the thought that counts, stupid,” Steve says, cupping his face and kissing him. “I love you so much,” he whispers, and Bucky holds him tightly for a long time. He sighs and nuzzles him, just resting on Bucky like a pet cat until he hears Natasha humming softly.

He and Bucky both look up at her, and she smiles, wearing her shorts and nothing else. It really has turned into a hot day, even though it's still more spring than summer. “I didn't want to wake you if you were napping,” Natasha says, “but I didn't want to startle you. Should I leave you to your alone time?”

“Not if you want us for something, goddess,” Bucky says, grinning.

Natasha smiles back, crossing her arms under her breasts, framing them perfectly and settling herself a little contrapposto in a way that makes Steve's fingers itch to touch her and to draw her at once, something she inspires in him a lot. “Pepper and I were going off to have lesbian orgasms, but I thought you might like to make them bisexual ones if you're not too tired.”

“Mmm, girlgasms,” Bucky purrs, and Steve laughs.

“Can we make it a double date?” Steve asks. “I could handle another round.”

“Pepper loves you as an audience for girl time, Steve. She told me to invite you too, if you're not too tired.”

“You bet your sweet ass I'm not,” Steve says, and Bucky lets out a bark of laughter, hugging him tightly and biting his ear.

“I just fuckin' _love_ you,” he growls, and Natasha laughs, reaching out to them. “Come along, then.”

Bucky gently pushes Steve to his feet. “I love carrying you, too, but I'm kinda sore today.”

“We'll let you be a lazy puppy,” Natasha promises, taking his hand and Steve's and leading them both upstairs. Bucky blushes a little, and Steve grins at him. They pass the guestroom on their way to Natasha's room, and can hear Thor teaching everyone some kind of Aesir children’s song. It makes all three of them smile, and so does Pepper when they tell her about it. She's lounging in Natasha's bed, naked and perfect. She's usually so put together. Pepper is the kind of woman who never leaves the house without makeup and sweeps her hair into an elegant bun to do housework. These things come so naturally to her that the sight of her bare-faced and bed-headed is really something special. Steve tells her so as he cuddles in under the thin, cool coverlet. She kisses him as Natasha climbs in on the other side and Bucky wraps himself around Steve from behind. Pretty soon even this minimal cover will be too much, but for now it's comfortable.

“Precious girl-pet,” Natasha coos, “how shall we arrange our boys?”

“I really wanna get fucked,” Bucky says, and it sounds like he's blushing again. 

Pepper smiles at him over Steve's head. “We can do that.”

“I can do that,” Steve says. “I 'll need to take a nap afterward, though.”

“We all can,” Pepper says, and Natasha smiles and kisses the back of her neck.

“Yes,” she says, sliding a hand around to palm and squeeze one small breast, pinching the hard nipple and making Pepper gasp. “After.”

Under Pepper's direction, Bucky stretches out on his back for Steve, a shallow triangular pillow from the closet putting his hips at the best angle and height. Pepper tucks the pillow into place, making sure that Bucky is comfortable before giving him a kiss and sitting on the other edge of the mattress with Natasha, who passes the lube to Steve. He doesn't waste any time getting two slippery fingers into Bucky, who moans and spreads his legs a little more, just lying there. 

“You know I probably can't finish you off this lazy,” Steve says, and Bucky grins at him.

“All the more reason to enjoy the moment.” Steve opens him a little wider, and he moans. “Fuck, Steve...”

“In your own time,” Natasha says. She has Pepper in her lap now, kneading both breasts and occasionally pinching her nipples and making let out quiet little voiced gasps that drive Steve crazy. They seem to have a similar effect on Bucky, and he groans as Steve gets all four fingers into him.

“Stop fooling around, Rogers,” he breathes, and Steve chuckles, a little breathless himself.

“Okay,” he says, and pushes Bucky's legs back and presses into him. After one long groan and a matching moment of stunned stillness, Bucky obligingly reaches up and hooks his hands under his knees to hold himself open for Steve, tossing his head on the pillow as Steve finds his depth and his rhythm, giving it to Bucky hard and slow.


	70. The One Where Steve Fucks Bucky While Pepper Sits On His Face

Natasha likes having boys put on a show. It's hot, and it's a refreshing change from the other way around. Even with a group of subs that lean so heavily male, she never gets tired of this. Especially not with Pepper on her lap, mewling and wriggling as she watches the boys with wide and avid eyes. Steve is going so hard, and Bucky is just taking it, groaning and wallowing in the sheets as much as he can while keeping his hips on the pillow, eyes rolling back in his head as Steve grunts and pants with effort, grinding into him over and over. Bucky pants and moans and bites his lip, making it even pinker and prettier than usual.

“Bucky, darling,” Natasha says, stroking Pepper's inner thighs without touching her wet, open cunt and making her whine miserably as she keeps her hands where Natasha put them like a good girl, “what do you say to Pepper riding your face?” All three of them moan at that, and Bucky gasps, “Green! Green, green, _please_!”

“I'm with him,” Steve pants, and Pepper whispers, “Yes, mistress, yes, green,” into Natasha's ear. Natasha gives her a kiss and sends her no her way. She gets her long, lean thighs on either side of Bucky's head, and kneels slowly down onto his mouth. She shudders and stiffens when they make contact, and then arches her back, playing with her beautiful tits the way Natasha had been. Steve whimpers and speeds up a little, and Pepper starts to groan and shake as Bucky moans beneath her.

For a while Natasha just watches them, cupping her closed outer lips to put just enough pressure on her clit. Bucky looks massive and golden and wild between Steve and Pepper's skinny paleness, and she loves the helpless power of him as they keep him pinned. But finally Steve starts to flag and to wheeze a little, gasping, “Yellow.” Bucky's mouth is too full of Pepper for him to say anything, but he lets go of his legs to hug Steve.

“You just rest on Bucky, sweetheart,” Natasha says, “and I'll fuck him through you.”

Steve whines and Bucky mumbles something that sounds like a fervent curse. Pepper shudders and grinds down, gasping directions that Bucky must follow, because she cuts herself off with a loud cry. Natasha kisses her and yanks on her hair, murmuring dirty encouragement into her ear before getting up and getting the new and improved SHIELD Strapless out the toy chest and growling as she pushes the new grip into herself. The shape is a little different, and very much improved. Clint also says that the new polymer in this one feels just as amazing on the receiving end. She strokes it a few times and then kneels behind Steve, opening his legs and pushing one finger into him. He's relaxed from being balls-deep in Bucky, so he just moans and takes it easily, his head resting on Bucky's chest as he cuddles him like a teddy bear and devours Pepper with little sloppy sounds.

“I love hearing how wet you are, sweetheart,” she purrs, and Pepper whimpers, her eyes nearly all pupil as she locks her gaze with Natasha's.

“I love to please you, mistress,” she gasps, and Natasha slides her fingers out of Steve so she can get close enough to tongue-fuck Pepper's mouth like Bucky is doing to her cunt. She moans and melts but at long last Natasha has to go back to poor, neglected Steve.

“Please, ma'am,” he gasps, “Please, please give me your cock.”

“Of course, baby,” Natasha says, and makes her first slow, lazy thrust into him. He and Bucky both whine and Pepper's gasping gets even faster, and Natasha chuckles, gradually upping her speed and intensity until Steve is rocking on Bucky's chest, crying out every time she moves. 

Bucky clings to him, nails digging into his back as he loops his legs around Steve and Natasha, groaning as Pepper tosses her head and lets go of her own tits to rake her nails up Bucky's sides and make him cry out. Natasha grins at her. “Come on, baby girl. Come for me.” She whimpers, squeals, and then grinds down into Bucky's mouth, humping his face as she comes. When she shakily dismounts to snuggle in next to Bucky and Steve, Natasha touches Bucky's sticky face since she can't kiss him at this angle. “Good boy. Hardly anyone can get Pepper to be that rude.”

“Please goddess, please let me come,” he whimpers, and she smiles. “Of course.” She reaches around Steve and squeezes Bucky's cock brutally as she fucks Steve faster, making him squeak and then let out a loud moan as he comes. Bucky howls and his own come hits Steve's chest seconds after. Once Natasha has rocked them both through it she slides out because Steve is oversensitive and groans as she pulls the dildo out, squeezing tight around the wide grip as it pops out. She shudders, and lies down beside Pepper, taking her hand and guiding her first three fingers inside. Pepper shudders and kisses her as Bucky watches them like they're the only thing happening in the universe. Steve is already dozing, and Natasha bites Pepper's shoulder to muffle herself when she comes, not wanting to wake him.

Once she's sure Natasha is done, Pepper slides her fingers out and licks them clean as Bucky whimpers. Pepper smiles and kisses him, stroking his hair with her clean hand.

“Such sweet babies,” Natasha says softly, and then yawns. “Nap time?”

“Yes,” Pepper says, hugging the boys and making a happy little noise in her through as Natasha molds herself to her back, nuzzling into her hair and sighing in contentment.


	71. The One Where Steve And Loki Talk (Over Cookies)

Loki settles in slowly, and like Steve and Bucky, isn't much inclined to give up his own residence. Like Nick, he's an inconstant fixture, vanishing on roadtrips and to meetings but always returning. For all his reticience, he slips into the group like he was always meant to be there, and among his first actions as a member of the household is to lie around and let Steve do some better sketches of him.

Steve knows that Natasha thinks of drawing everyone as a mostly-honest ruse to bring him in, but he has saved every one of his myriad studies and is actually roughing a canvas back at the apartment for the first real portrait. He's going to start with Bucky, since he knows him the best, but he's getting better and better at the others. Today he's doing a still life, though. His personal favorite is food that isn't the traditional bowl of fruit, and he sits on one of the bar stools by the high kitchen counter, sketching the rack of cookies he just set out to cool. It's the last batch, all the others already neatly stacked up in plastic containers. They're an old-fashioned molasses spice cookie, and one of Bucky's favorites. He's just putting delicate little crack lines on the last one when an elegant white hand picks it up. Steve jumps a little, and then grins at Loki.

“Hey. How do you like it?”

“Exquisite,” Loki tells him, and pours himself a glass of milk. He's still wearing one of his sharp suits, and there's something very endearing about it. “Do these have cayenne pepper in them?”

“One teaspoon for all five dozen, but yeah.” The house is mostly empty today, and Steve is a little tired from all his unassisted baking. He yawns and stretches his hand, which is starting to cramp a little.

“It's just enough,” Loki says. :Milk?”

“Please.” 

Loki brings Steve a glass of milk and a saucer with two warm cookies on it. “I'll eat them if you don't,” he says, setting it on the table by Steve.

“We can share,” he says, smiling as Loki sits down beside him. They nibble their cookies and sip their milk in companionable silence for a while, just enjoying the afternoon stillness of the house. Nick is the only other person here, and he's napping in a back bedroom like the grumpy old man he is.

“Steve?” Loki asks at last.

“Yes?” He blows eraser dust off of the open page.

“....How much switching happens around here?”

For a moment Steve thinks he means actual switches or canes, and is going to assure him that Natasha only inflicts that kind of pain on people who want her to, but as he opens his mouth he realizes that Loki is talking about switching roles. “About as much as anyone wants,” he says, shrugging. “I dom the other guys when I feel like it, and Natasha sometimes takes days off to be submissive, but I haven't seen it yet. Why? Who's bringing it out in you?”

Loki blushes faintly. “Clint.”

“...I could see that,” Steve says, and Loki chuckles.

“He's just so little and cute, but he doesn't make me afraid I'll break him. No offense,” he adds.

“I'm pretty durable,” Steve says, “but I know I don't look it at all. And Clint is really hot.”

Loki laughs. “We all are. And that includes you, little one,” he adds softy, stroking Steve's hair and letting that slender hand rest on the back of his neck. Steve shivers agreeably and leans over to kiss Loki's cheek.

“Thank you.”

“You're more than welcome,” he says softly, and then abandons Steve to rinse the dishes and then go back to change. The bedroom that's the closest to being Thor's is next to the one Nick is sleeping in, and Steve applauds when Loki comes back out in casual clothes unaccompanied by irate yelling from Nick.

“Good job!”

Loki laughs, and makes a dramatic, flourishing bow. “Thank you, thank you, the hand is quicker than the eye.” His t-shirt is the rich, forest green he favors, and it makes his skin glow.

“God, you're pretty,” Steve says without thinking, and Loki laughs again.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sugarmouse.” It's one of many Asgardian terms of endearment that have come into use with Loki's presence, and Steve grins as Loki leans in and nuzzles his cheek. “Do you even grow a beard?”

“A little fuzz that lengthens into scraggle. What about you?” If anything Loki's skin is smoother than his own, and Steve nibbles along his jawline toward his ear, making him shiver.

“Mmm, Jotunn almost never do.”

“Jotunn?”

“We're an ethnic minority with a bad reputation that a lot of us really do deserve.” He tilts his head to kiss Steve's neck, putting his hands on the edges of the stool to support himself, and Steve shudders, his hands flying to Loki's shoulders.

“What about you in particular?” Steve gasps, and Loki chuckles, biting him gently.

“Me? Definitely.” He bites again, harder, and Steve groans quietly.

“I was gonna go to bed for a while, but now I think you should come with me,” he whispers into Loki's ear, and Loki whines.

“Yes,” he whispers.

“Carry me?” Steve asks, just as quiet. Loki answers in action rather than words, scooping Steve up.

“You really are a sweet armful,” he says, cuddling Steve close to that broad chest. He looks so slight next to Thor that it's easy to forget how massive he really is, and Steve sighs, nestling closer and pointing the way to the room he and Bucky share when they sleep here in a couple. Half the time they end up in someone else's room and often there are others with them here, but Steve's blue blanket is on the bed and his easel is set up in the corner, so it feels like his room. Bucky's giant Marilyn Monroe poster is on the wall, and the half-open closet door shows clothes belonging to both of them. Loki sets Steve on the bed very gently, and crawls onto it after him.


	72. The One Where Steve Doms Loki

An upright, truly good person like Steve should bring out Loki's brattiest impulses, but he doesn't. Maybe it's because he's so small and tires so easily. Maybe it's the sweet concern in those big blue eyes. Whatever it is, Loki finds himself being very sweet and obedient. He covers Steve in kisses and fetches a collar and leash when ordered to. They're probably supposed to be negotiating this with their adult words or something, but obeying Steve feels natural. He kneels on the bed and lets Steve buckle the collar around his neck and attach the leash, and then whimpers as he pulls him down.

Much as Loki likes it rough, there's something appealing about how gentle Steve is. He strokes Loki like a cat and calls him a good boy, keeping a firm grip on the leash as he arranges Loki to rut against his more than half-hard cock. Steve's various health problems make him slow to rouse for his age, but soon he's pulsing against Loki, and nothing matters but Steve's grip on the leash and his soft, encouraging voice and the movement of Loki's hips on his. It's... restful, somehow, even as he gets closer and closer to coming, the feeling winding up in the base of his spine and sending ripples all the way to his scalp that only intensify when Steve takes his hair and pulls. Not a sharp yank to hurt, a steady pull that's like another leash. Loki groans and speeds up, staring into Steve's eyes.

“Yes,” Steve gasps, “yes, just like that...” He comes in wide-eyed silence a moment later, and seeing that and feeling Steve shudder and throb is almost enough for Loki, but it takes another minute of whining pathetically and humping Steve's leg as he praises him softly. After that it's Loki's job to put the collar and leash away and to get the wet wipes, Steve half asleep already. Loki supposes he can afford a nap, and wraps around Steve from behind, feeling protective and silly about it. Steve just sighs and cuddles back against his chest, though, and he's so lovely to hold, with the smooth little knobs of his spine and the way his narrow shoulders fit against Loki. They start breathing together, deep and slow, and it's this as much as the sex and the warmth of the afternoon sun that draws Loki under.

When he opens his eyes again, it's dimmer out but not night yet. He yawns, and smiles to see Steve still out like a light. He's even cuter asleep, but simultaneously more fragile-looking, and Loki just watches him breathe until a quiet knock on the door makes him look up.

“Yes?”

“There will be food soon, little brother,” Thor says, “May I come in?”

“You may,” Loki says, and yawns. Thor grins at him, and comes over to sit on the edge of the bed. He smells like freshly-cut wood, having spent the day in the studio space he rents to make furniture and tools and the useless little knickknacks that are probably Loki's favorite, though he will never admit it.

“I see that you and Steve are getting along,” Thor says with a smile, leaning down to kiss Loki's shoulder and then his mouth. “Isn't he lovely?”

“...Yes,” Loki says softly, stroking Steve's hair, “very sweet.”

“Falling in love with him came so easily,” Thor says fondly, patting Steve's bony hip too lightly to wake him.

“It always comes easily to you, brother mine,” Loki says. Even he can't say if he means it fondly or to sting, and Thor just smiles at him, his eyes a little sad.

“It's a good talent to have in a lonely world, snowflake.” He kisses Loki's hand, and Loki sighs, turning it to stroke Thor's beard. “Maybe so.” He sits up and stretches his arms over his head, watching Thor watch him. “You said something about food. What are we having?”

Thankfully, they are _not_ having a good old-fashioned Asgardian dinner. Many of the traditional dishes are delicious, but entirely too heavy for high summer. Even in winter most of them settle like a bowling ball and five pounds of lard, so he's relieved to hear about two kinds of salad and some grilled fish. 

Thor bounces off to be Mother's Little Helper and Loki leans in close to Steve's ear, breathing warmly across it and whispering, “Wake up” with a sharp sibilance that snaps him awake as quickly as a shout, but with so much less violence.

“Time is it?” Steve mumbles, turning to hug Loki tightly. “You all right?”

“Far, far better. It's time for dinner. I doubt pants are required, but you might want to get up.”

“I didn't really aftercare you at all.”

“Oh my fucking god, Steve.” Loki gets up and collects his own clothes, pulling them back on as he speaks. “There are house rules in place about basic safewords and common decency, and that's all we needed! Besides, you took great care of me.”

“If you s ay so,” Steve says, blinking slowly and looking far too dubious.

Loki groans, because he hates talking about feelings. “Steve. All you did was ask me nicely to be your pet for a bit. You were very kind and made sure I enjoyed myself and praised me. After that, all must of us are going to even _need_ is a hug and a nap, so don't start.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment and then laughs. “Okay.” 

“Please, Steve,” Loki says, “don't ruin it all by worrying.”

“I won't,” Steve says softly, and Loki passes him his clothes. He wriggles into them on the bed and then stands up, pulling everything straight. Done with that, he smiles and reaches out to Loki, and they go down to dinner hand in hand.


	73. The One Where The Solstice Party Is First Mentioned

Steve is truly awake in time for dessert, which is good, because apparently it's time to discuss the household's plans. Emma Frost, she of the fabulous brownstone and equally fabulous Halloween party, is throwing another one for summer solstice, and Natasha wants to know how many of them will be attending with her. After Thor cajoles Loki a bit in Aesir and Bucky calls a guy to swap shifts, it turns out that all of them can make it.

“Man, now we really are a baseball team!” Clint says, and Natasha laughs.

“I'm authorized to bring whatever entourage I see fit. It's a sign of great trust on the part of our hostess, so naturally, everyone must be polite and not get too drunk.”

“Piss yourself one time...” Tony grumbles, and Pepper groans, administering the corrective headslap when Natasha tells her to.

Apparently the solstice is a big deal in Asgard, and Thor is delighted to have a party to go to in America. “I know there won't be any bonfires or naked tree-climbing,” he tells Steve as they clear the table, “but she does put up paper lanterns like people do at home, and serves lots of fish and has Shut-The-Box and Tafl in the game room. She buys good mead, too, which is a miracle in this benighted heathen country.” He winks at Steve as he says it, and he laughs so hard he coughs a little. Only a little, though, and soon they have the dishes under control. The dishwasher is enormous, and could probably deal with the dish output of even more than the current ten members of the household.

“You realize I've never heard of either game and that I can't drink, right?”

“Shut-The-Box is meant to be played by drunks, Steve, it's very easy to pick up. And fish is delicious and very nourishing for the delicately-constituted.”

Steve chuckles. “You always put 'scrawny and pathetic' so nicely, Thor,” he says. “I like that about you.”

“Bah!” Thor swoops down on him and bundles him into his arms in a moment. “The only thing that is not delightful about you is the fretting the ill-health of someone so dear brings.” Steve is a bit more touched than he wants to be, and shivers when Thor kisses him “It is a sweet pain, little one, and I pray that you keep inflicting it if you can't feel better.”

“Shit, Thor, I'm not gonna _die_ ,” Steve mutters, but doesn't do anything to prevent Thor from carrying him to the couch and cuddling him for long enough that Steve starts to doze again, snapping awake when Tony comes bounding in. He pauses, looking a little sheepish.

“Didn't mean to wake the baby,” he says, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Siddown, you lunatic.”

“I thought you'd never ask!” he sits next to Thor and cuddles up to his side, sighing happily when Thor puts one massive arm arm around him. “But yeah, me and Bruce were talking about themes and stuff.”

“Oh,” Steve says, “is it a costume party?”

“Kid,” Tony replies, “I don't know if she throws any other kind.”

Apparently the summer party is really something of an Event, and that there will be more of everything than there was on Halloween. This time Steve won't be going in with a white ribbon, and might even take a peek upstairs. Tony is of course going to participate, exhibitionist that he is.

“Usually I try to find some nice sadist to beat the hell out of me in front of everyone so they can all see how hot I look like that,” he says, grinning.

“And what's the protocol for that?” Steve asks.

“We find Natasha and ask her nicely, of course,” Thor says, hugging them both. “We can have lovely times with others, though she does prefer to be present, even if they're not comfortable with her active participation.”

“We can also just talk to people if we don't feel like being slutty,” Tony adds, and Steve laughs.

“Good. I think you guys are about all I can handle.”

“Sure you can handle us?” Tony says with a happy leer, and Steve grabs him and kisses him roughly before biting his neck, so hard and so sudden that he just gasps and melts instead of making any further smart remarks.

“Thor, hold his hands behind his back.”

Thor obeys, grinning, and Tony whimpers, staring at Steve with those big, dark, imploring eyes. Under all the sass Tony is sweet and fragile and needy, and now that Steve has gotten him to show it, he's gentler with him. He strokes his hair and kisses him softly, caressing the places that are probably already bruised a little and nuzzling into his beard. “So pretty,” Steve murmurs, “and such a good boy.” Tony lets out a little keening noise at this, and Steve shudders, nibbling the tip of his ear. “Love you so much,” he adds, because it's true and because it makes Tony struggle in Thor's grip, hiding his face in Steve's shoulder. He's so heavy and strong up close, all kinds of muscle packed onto his small frame. Steve takes his time about appreciating them.

He ends up going to bed with the pair of them, Bucky and Loki sniffing them out and joining in after a while. At last, sticky and exhausted and happy and _sure_ that Tony and Loki are okay, Steve sleeps. He's tucked in against Bucky's chest with Tony huddled in his own spindly embrace. Loki is wrapped around Tony from behind, and Thor is behind him, his face buried in Loki's hair and his massive arm wrapped possessively around his slender waist.


	74. The One Where Steve Tortures Tony

Tony has widely varied tastes, kinks, and perversions, but there are two particular styles of physical domination that satisfy him in alarmingly deep ways. He likes the will bondage aspects of being controlled by someone physically weaker, and the physical helplessness of being held in place by someone stronger. Getting both at once is doing weird shit to his brain, but it's good weird. And Steve just keeps praising him, with none of the mockery Nick and Natasha tend to lace it with to help him bear it. They've decided to take this back to Steve and Bucky's room, and Thor is carrying Tony, still keeping his arms pinned and looking absolutely fucking delighted with everything.

“Give me a color, sweetheart,” Steve says, his hand on the doorknob.

“Green,” Tony says, in a little voice he almost never uses (even when he's being little) and without pulling his face out of Thor's shoulder.

“Okay,” Steve says, taking a moment to ruffle his hair and rub the back of his neck the way Pepper does. “I want my sweet boy to have whatever company he wants.”

Tony makes a high-pitched but completely manly noise and Thor carries him the rest of the way to bed. “Put him on his back and keep hold of his wrists,” Steve says, and Thor does, and Tony tries not to come in his pants. Soon that's no longer an option, because Steve gets him stripped in near-record time. And then things get really bad, because he wants to draw. And Natasha isn't here to tell him not to waste time, so Thor is holding Tony down as Steve fucking _draws_ him. Drawing does not involve touching, and Tony feels that some relevant law ought to be changed and he tells Steve as much between struggling, begging, panting, and cursing Thor in every language he knows.

Steve, damn him, just takes his time. Like he's really in art class or something. He stares at Tony and at the page impartially, smiling a little sometimes, frowning at others, squinting in that way people drawing things that are really there and not circuit-boards do, and even humming softly. Tony knows he's doing it just to be a bastard, and trying to pick out the tune is almost as bad as no one touching his dick, and that's pretty bad.

“Steeeeeeee~eeeeeeeve!” he whines, tossing his head and kicking his legs as Thor holds him pinned in his lap. The son of a bitch still has his pants on, and Tony makes a weird sound that's almost a gurgle before finding his way to speech again. “Lime green fading to yellow, you assholes! Someone fucking touch me!”

“Just one more minute,” Steve says, sweet as pie and dripping with evil. “Thor, count down from sixty.”

And then Thor starts counting, and Tony starts wondering if he's going to come without anyone touching him by the end of the count. He doesn’t, even though Thor actually includes zero, making it more like a launch countdown than ever. The number hits him like a touch, and he cries out, jerking in Thor's grasp and somehow not coming. It feels pretty close, though, and by the time Steve kneels on the bed in front of him he's a wreck, melted back against Thor's chest. He spreads his legs for Steve, groaning as those little hands lightly grip his ankles and only then start to slowly work their way up. The touch is almost clinical, and that just makes Tony's cock twitch. Steve finds and follows each major muscle, rubbing them and appreciating the shape in a way that would be really relaxing in slightly different circumstances

“I didn't know we were in fucking anatomy class!” Tony growls, trying get his ankles hooked around Steve's ridiculous little noodle of a waist to pull him in. The kid slithers out of his grasp, of course, and then the door opens and Loki comes slinking in, Bucky right behind him.

“Oh,” Loki says, “how pretty.”

“Fuck yeah,” Bucky agrees, and Tony moans under their combined gaze. 

Steve turns and smiles at them. “Hey. Bucky, you wanna hold Loki down next to Tony? I think the contrast will be pretty.”

Bucky shivers, but to his credit he waits for Loki to smile and say, “Green,” before grabbing him.

The thing that can be easy to forget about Bucky is just how strong and fast he really is, and how rough he can be. With Steve he can be so gentle that it's fucking obnoxious, and with Natasha he's a goddamn puppydog, but now he's on Loki like a ton of bricks. Steve just sits there and watches of course, while Tony tries not to squirm or whine too much, but thank all the gods anyone has ever made up, soon Loki is flat on his back, hands pinned over his head. Thor moves Tony to match when Steve tells him to, and then he's side to side with Loki, silky skin and prominent ribs pressed against him. 

Loki really is skinny for how large his frame is, and Tony is fascinated with all the structure of him in between nearly dying of sexual frustration as Steve just keeps feeling them up. Long, loving strokes and slow pressure everywhere but where Tony really, really, really needs to be touched right now. Soon Loki is almost as desperate, hissing vicious curses at Bucky and pleading with Steve in the same breath. As far as Tony can care about anything not orgasm-related right now, it does look like a lot of fun to pin Loki down. He'll have to try it sometime when he's not sobbing into Steve's mouth as he finally, _finally_ takes Tony's cock into his hand as he kisses him like wants to eat the sound.


	75. Take Your Tiny Artist To Work Day I

Steve wakes up slowly, in a series of long blinks. Everyone is still here, more beautiful than ever in unguarded sleep and gilded with morning sun. Thor has wrapped a leg over Loki's hip in the night, and Loki has cuddled up to Tony's back, face mashed between his shoulder blades. Steve can tell that it's quite early for an unemployed summer day, and a glance at the clock tells him that it's a few minutes before eight. He's wide awake and has to pee, so he carefully slithers out of Bucky's embrace. He actually got good at this when they were kids, because Bucky has always been cuddly. He makes a deeper version of the same little whine in his throat, and Steve smiles, gently pushing Tony forward. Once he actually _gets_ to sleep he might as well be drugged, and he doesn't notice at all. Loki almost wakes, but then finds his nuzzling spot again and subsides as Bucky hugs Tony close and purrs. Thor mumbles something and moves with Loki, and soon the four of them are peaceful again. 

Steve gets yesterday's clothes on and pauses in the doorway to be very sure before heading down to the kitchen, where Natasha is sitting with a bowl of fresh fruit and an entire pitcher of water in front of her. Nick is making a beautiful salad in a plastic container, and Clint is hand-feeding Natasha, carefully picking up one slice of fruit at a time. Coming closer, Steve realizes that she has long false nails on that have been newly painted glossy black, and that she has a cucumber slice over each eye.

“Is that Steve?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Clint says, picking up a strawberry. “'Nother bite?”

“I need to speak for a moment, thanks.” Clint shrugs, and eats the berry himself. “Steve, dear, come and sit down. Are you rested?”

“Yeah,” he says, blushing as he settles on the chair beside her. “What's up?”

“It's a shoot day. Do you want to come along? There will be pretty people for you to draw, and I know you and Phil will get along.”

“Well, I did kind of top Tony and Loki, and I should maybe not let them wake up alone...”

“They're not going to be alone with Bucky and Thor,” Clint says. “Besides, Nick is staying home today, he can cuddle either of them if they need it.” He picks up a cube of melon. “Tasha?”

She opens her mouth and takes it, thanking him after chewing and swallowing. “I understand that you feel responsible for them and I'm proud of you, Steve, but if they went to sleep happy, they should be okay today. If they're not, they can call you and I'll get you a cab back here.”

In the end, there's no way Steve can resist a trip to SHIELD. His best dildo, scrimped and saved for years ago, is SHIELD-made. Getting to see the place _and_ draw pretty people _and_ maybe even meet the owner is far too much to resist, especially knowing that Nick is here to look after everyone. He texts Bucky, Tony, Loki, and Thor to let them know where he is and that he loves them all for the sweet, good boys that they are, and then goes to Natasha's bedroom where he has some fresh clothes. It only takes him a few minutes to make himself presentable, but by the time he gets back down to the kitchen the fruit is gone and Natasha has thrown away or eaten the cucumber slices and shed her bathrobe to reveal leggings and a tunic underneath it. They're nice, but simple and easy and rather at odds with her black talons.

She smiles at the expression on his face. “They'll provide the clothes and makeup, I just like to make sure my nails are right ahead of time. We're doing our Villainess line today.”

“Oh,” he says, and tries not to blush because he hasn't actually seen Natasha in much fetish wear. She smirks, and drags those long black claws along his jawline, making him shudder. “I think you'll enjoy it,” she says, and Steve does blush.

Clint serves as their chauffeur, and soon they're in the car, Steve sitting in the back with the salad. Natasha is generally very positive about her body image, but she prefers fruit and salads until she's done shooting, not wanting there to be any bloat for the camera to exaggerate. There's enough for three, and Steve smiles.

SHIELD Studios is housed in a big building shaped like a triskelion. Clint drives to a particular entrance with the ease of long practice, dropping Steve and Natasha there, and Steve follows her into the building with the salad, feeling like a personal assistant and not minding. They're in a sleek, very modern white and gray lobby, and Natasha goes to the receptionist and gets Steve a visitor's badge, which he clips to his shirt before following her to the elevator.

It's one of those sleek, cylindrical jobs, and there's music instead of muzak, as well as a faint scent of lavender. Natasha smiles at him. “The elevator was one of the first things to make me trust this place.”

“I can see why,” Steve says, and follows her off when they reach their floor. This one is more of an office, with an open floor plan and cubicles, but inside the cubicles people are writing ad copy for dildos and whips. They wend their way through the maze, Natasha greeting people as she goes by, and then they're through a door and into the fashion studio space. SHIELD does film porn here, but that's in another section of the triskelion. Here there's just a backdrop with lights set up, and the various amenities models need, like a fridge for Steve to stash the salad in, which is filled with bottled water with some liquor tucked into the back, plenty of fresh coffee, hot water, and even more different types of tea than there are at home.


	76. The One Where Steve Finally Stops Torturing Tony, And There Are Many Handjobs

The only thing Thor really has to wish for now is to to be the one holding Loki down. But as he struggles to keep Tony in place as he bucks and squirms, he really can't complain. Tony is so beautiful, and so fun to pin down. He's small enough for it to be pretty easy, but strong enough to really keep Thor's attention. He's unraveling in Steve's hands now, crying out with each elegant little twist and devastating squeeze and a few strange and dainty movements Thor is pretty sure that he couldn't replicate. Steve's hands are one of his best features, and considering how adorable the whole package is, that's saying something.

“Steve!” Tony wails, as Steve stops moving just before he can come.

“Now, now,” Steve coos, “I need to help Loki along. We mustn't be rude.”

“You are such a dick,” Tony whimpers, tears standing in his eyes. Thor leans down to kiss them away and then looks over to watch. Bucky looks spellbound as Steve kisses Loki, and Thor is probably wearing the same expression. There's a latent strain of sweetness in Loki that Thor doesn't see much, but Steve brings it out effortlessly. Now he's trembling and flexing his hands as he struggles not to struggle, working so hard to be a good boy for Steve, who breaks the kiss to grin up at Bucky.

“Isn't he pretty?”

“Fuck yeah, he's pretty,” Bucky growls, and Loki whines, gazing over at Thor.

“Want to kiss him?” Steve asks Loki, nuzzling his jawline.

“Yes,” he whimpers. “Please sir, please...”

“Tony,” Steve says, “will you be good and let Thor kiss Loki?”

“Yes,” Tony groans, “yes, you vicious bastard.” Thor kisses his forehead.

“Thank you, sir,” he says, and then gives Tony's wrists an affectionate squeeze before letting go to cup Loki's face and devour his mouth. Loki quivers and whines and sucks Thor's tongue into his mouth, moaning and arching up into the touch as much as he can ass Steve takes the opportunity to kiss Bucky and Tony curses them all. Steve savors Bucky, taking his time and accordingly ding the same for Thor, but at long last he takes pity on Tony.

“All right, Thor, I need you to hold Tony.”

“Yes, sir,” Thor says, and goes back to his place, pinning Tony again.

“You are such an asshole, Thor,” Tony says, but Thor can feel that he's relieved to have externalized control again. He relaxes a little against the mattress, and Steve settles between him and Loki. Bucky's eyes are fever-bright, and he stares as Steve finally, _finally_ gets his clothes off. Thor and Bucky are both still trapped in their pants, and Thor has to imagine that things are getting just as unbearable for Bucky, if not worse. Steve shimmies out of his jeans and pulls off his t-shirt and the undershirt he wears because even now it's not really warm enough for him.

“Beautiful,” Bucky murmurs, and Steve blushes.

“He's right, you know,” Thor adds, sounding hoarse to his own ears.

“Thanks,” Steve says softly, and pulls off his underwear, damp with precome. He settles on his knees between Loki and Tony and grips each of them. Tony gets the left hand, already so close, while Loki gets the full benefit of Steve's dexterity. Tony doesn't let this go by without comment, but soon he's past coherent speech, moaning at the top of his lungs. Loki is quieter, but his eyes are huge and full of that helpless expression that's such a privilege to see.

“So beautiful, little brother,” Thor says in Aesir, “always so beautiful.” The word 'always' has a particular weight in Aesir, and it makes Loki keen softly.

“I want to know what you're saying,” Steve says, in a tone that Thor knows is not an order to switch to English. “It must be something good.”

“It is,” Thor assures him, exchanging a grin with Steve before he devotes himself entirely to the task of getting Tony and Loki off. He's very good, ramping Loki up so quickly that he soon matches Tony, while keeping Tony right where he is despite all his desperate thrusting and pleading noises. And then he has them matched, both hands stroking fast and hard, grip slicked with precome, and Thor would swear that all five of them are breathing in time when Tony and Loki come, both of them nearly convulsing with it, Tony letting out a wail that can probably be heard in every room in the house while Loki just sucks in a huge breath and lets it out in complete silence, huge, dilated eyes staring straight at the ceiling.

“Holy shit, Steve,” Bucky says in the silence that follows, and Steve chuckles, wiping his hands. His own cock is standing straight up, wetness beading at the tip, and Thor wants to swallow him down.

“You can let go now,” he says softly, and Thor releases Tony, Bucky doing the same with Loki. Both of them are boneless now, and sort of melt together into the center of the bed, snuggling into each other's arms, legs tangling. Steve rubs their backs for a while and then cleans them up with wet wipes. After they've recovered from that, Steve has Thor and Bucky shift them to the side so that he can stretch out on his back, hissing softly. “Come here,” he says, reaching out to them, and they do. “And get out of those pants, you poor things. Such good boys, holding back for so long.” 

They scramble out of their pants and lie on either side of him, kissing him all over his face and neck and shoulders, biting at his collarbones and rutting against his spread thighs when he gives them permission. He's small enough to make Thor feel ungainly, like he and Bucky are going to crush their tiny master, but they're holding their own weight and looming over Steve like a pair of shade trees. He moans, grabbing both of them by the hair and kissing them and praising them until they're close to coming, when he finally lets them grip his cock together, stroking hard and fast to make him come when they do, with a breathless little cry.


	77. Take Your Tiny Artist To Work Day II

Natasha beckons Steve to follow her into the dressing room, where three women are waiting beside one of half a dozen classic salon chairs, all upholstered in sleek black leather. Of course.

“Hello, girls,” she says, taking the bathrobe the youngest woman gives her. “This is Steve. Steve, this is Melinda, Skye, and Bobbi.” They smile and wave as she takes her clothes off to reveal lacy black lingerie in a way so businesslike that it's almost not hot. She hands them to the girl and puts the robe on before settling into the chair and leaning back. 

They get right to work, and Steve sits back and starts drawing, since no one has told him to do anything else. Natasha's crew doesn't seem to mind, Skye touching up her nails and Bobbi using a flatiron to straighten her hair before carefully clipping in some extensions so good that Steve would think they were real if he hadn't seen it done, while Melinda riffles though an enormous toolbox of cosmetics.

“So,” Skye says, wielding a tiny brush loaded with clear polish, “are you part of the harem?”

Steve blushes. “Yeah. I was lured here with the promise of pretty people to draw.”

“Oh, you weren't lied to,” Bobbi says, her hands so sure that their movements look automatic as she gives Natasha a bone-straight mane that ends at the coccyx.

“I can see that,” Steve says, pulling his sketchbook out of his bag and doing his best to capture Bobbi's hands. Skye chatters away about the clothes, the photographers, and the other models, and Natasha answers questions and speculates along with her. Natasha has mentioned a lot of these people, and Steve is curious to meet them. Bobbi quietly puts in corrections and elaborations and snark in a way that makes Steve think of Clint. Melinda doesn't say much at all, testing lipsticks on the heel of Natasha's hand. One of the few things Melinda does say is that on pale people, their fingertips are the closest match for lip color, and the heel of the hand is best if someone is trying to work on their manicure at the same time. Steve draws her look of concentration, and the group of the three of them together, and is getting the loose start of a still life of lipstick tubes when Bobbi completes the extensions.

“There,” she says, running a comb through Natasha's hair. “Lovely.”

“Just keep it out of my way,” Melinda says, and steps in with the massive amount of makeup Natasha is going to wear on camera. Multiple foundations and concealers and things Steve doesn't even know the names for, and she mixes colors the way he does for a painting as Skye wields a tiny air-dryer over Natasha's nails, now such a gleaming black that Steve knows they'll look wet long after they dry. Bobbi clips Natasha's hair out of the way and puts away the remaining extensions and the iron.

“I always knew this was a lot of work,” Steve says, watching Melinda apply four different shades of eyeliner, “but it's another thing to see it.”

“I know, right?” Bobbi says, and glances over his shoulder. “Hey, you're really good.”

He chuckles. “Thanks. Every time I hear that I feel better about going to school for it.”

“Ha, that's what I said when I was learning to do hair.”

Soon Melinda is done, and Natasha looks pale and fierce, her eyes wicked and feline. Her lips are almost black, but it's an important almost, a color with blood red at the heart of it. She gives Steve a look that makes him shiver, and drops the robe again so they can help her into a black PVC catsuit with matching thigh-high boots, under-bust corset, and posture collar. It's actually kind of weird to see Natasha in any sort of collar, but it matches the corset exactly and gives her a very strict and elegant bearing. A long, gleaming riding crop completes the ensemble, and she's ready.

Steve follows her out to the studio and sits down out of the way, sketching Natasha as she struts onto the pristine white backdrop, her entire figure pinched in and jacked up and exaggerated. She looks fragile and lethal at the same time, and Steve is fascinated. He draws her as she poses alone and as she breaks pose and laughs as the photographers adjust things and check their light levels. Just getting everything right is a very long process, and Steve has a lot of sketches by the time they start getting photos they really want to keep. Natasha is impossible to look away from, and Steve starts to draw her in a more cartoony style as she moves from pose to pose, enjoying the clean lines and deep curves. He's so engrossed that he can't even be startled when a man speaks at his elbow, apparently having teleported there.

“That is _exactly_ what I need,” he says, and for a moment Steve thinks he means Natasha and is wondering how much you worry about someone objectifying a model while she's actually working, and then it registers that he means the drawing.

Steve looks up at a balding man in a suit, who looks entirely too respectable to be here. “It is?”

“Absolutely.” He extends his hand for Steve to shake. “Phil Coulson.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve says, and is completely unprepared for the way Phil's eyes light up.

“Omigodofcourseit'syou!” he says, and then lets go of Steve's hand and takes a deep breath, visibly composing himself. “Sorry. I just really, really liked Captain America.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment. “Wow. I had no idea anybody was still reading that.” He had drawn up the character as part of a presentation about propaganda for a really interesting class that was cross-listed English and History, and then posted a short webcomic about him and had mostly forgotten about it after all one hundred or so of his readers had weighed in on the ending, some assuming that he had planned it from the start, others seeing it for the character caprice it was. Looking at Phil now, he supposes he must have been one of those who loved it rather than hated it.


	78. Take Your Tiny Artist To Work Day III

Natasha finishes her solo shoot for the catsuit pretty quickly. She has always worn a catsuit well, and doesn't even take off the posture collar during her first break. It's like perfectly-fitted armor, and she struts out of the backdrop and over to where Steve and Phil seem to have found each other. There's really no other way to walk in boots like these, but the way Steve watches her approach is more than a little gratifying. Phil has pulled up a chair and his pants are actually riding up enough to show his socks, a testament to how completely focused on the conversation he is.

“Glad to see you boys getting along,” Natasha says, and Phil smiles, standing and offering her his chair. She thanks him and takes it, because heels this high are no joke.

“Even better,” Phil says. “I get to meet one of my favorite comic artists, and Steve gets to pick up some extra cash. I can't believe you didn't tell me you'd found the perfect person for the job.”

“Could you believe I forgot?” Natasha says. Phil has been wanting SHIELD to put out pornographic comics, seeing as some of their best sellers are superhero parody porn and fetish fashion that can be seamlessly integrated into cosplay, but her mind has been on other things.

Phil chuckles. “I can, actually. Especially since Captain America has nothing like the exposure it deserves.”

Steve goes bright red. “It's not _that_ great. I'm just glad you like the ending.”

“You realize we'll all have to read it now,” Natasha says, taking Steve's hand and squeezing it, careful of her ludicrous bayonets. “What's it about?”

Steve smiles, still flushed, and squeezes her hand in return. “In freshman year I lucked into an interesting history class. It was mostly about the creation of propaganda and its effect on history, and the big project was to take a randomly-assigned time and place and ideology and make some of your own. I got a real easy one, American pro-war stuff for World War Two. I made this perfect Aryan superman dressed in the stars and stripes and exhorting people to buy war bonds, and as I drew him he kinda grew a personality, and I realized that even though I had no time, I just had to draw the story that had occurred to me.”

“And that story is a work of art,” Phil says, making Steve go from pink to red and squirm a little in his chair and roll his eyes.

“It's an okay comic even though the main character is kind of a Mary Sue and the ending is cheesy,” he mutters.

“You hush,” Phil says, “I love the ending. Either way, I know that you can draw people actually doing things as well as put together attractive layouts without getting too self-indulgent about it, and I would love to see your work in SHIELD comics. You'd get paid by page or issue, depending on length and content, and get thirty-five percent royalties, though that can go up if you write as well as draw. We've already got a contract drawn up, you can look it over.”

Painfully modest as Steve can be, Natasha at least doesn't have to twist his arm into giving Phil his email address. They talk a bit more about the ending and symbolism and Steve looks almost horrified when Natasha sends Skye to fetch her phone so she can look it up right now. The art is definitely weaker than Steve's current efforts, but there's something kind of loveable about Captain America. There are no secondary colors at all, just red, white, blue, and occasional flashes of yellow for things like the protagonist's blonde hair. He's enormous and broad-shouldered, with a slender waist and a face that's a bit like Steve's, but not to a narcissistic extent. It looks more like Steve's own reflection was the handiest reference. He spends the first page posing for the public, and the second glumly drinking a Coke backstage and letting a cigarette burn away in the ashtray beside him as he flashes back to his origin story.

Natasha actually feels sort of resentful when they call her back to work, when normally she'd be delighted to hear that Frank is finally ready. He's one of those men who give the stereotypical overdressed and indecisive woman a run for her money, and it's all the more ludicrous because as far as she can tell, Frank always looks the same. Truculent and hairy and barely controlled, dressed in either black or white, authentic bedhead held in place with spray. He has a long sad story and barely-controlled PTSD, though, so Natasha is patient with him. He's a lot like Bruce turned inside-out, snarling to cover his vulnerability instead of keeping it front and center to hide the rage. Phil says he's worth his weight in gold.

“All right, Frank,” Natasha says, brisk to the edge of brusqueness. “You know the drill.” She gestures to the floor with the crop, and he goes slowly, glaring all the way. It's not the usual thing to basically scene with another model, but it works for her and for Frank. Apparently he has made other girls cry, but Natasha just uses the tip of the crop to guide him through the poses and doesn't take any sass. She can feel Steve's gaze, and isn't at all surprised to see him sketching when she looks up during a pause in the action. Frank is still kneeling, breathing slowly. Natasha taps him on the shoulder with the crop. “How are you doing?”

“Pretty good. The scrawny kid in the corner one of yours?”

She smiles. “Yeah. He is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our cheerful friend there is Frank Castle.
> 
> (Relevant material: http://40.media.tumblr.com/47270e9e2140e94eee7670f4ecf2e1aa/tumblr_mz5vv8Qnxq1rqrq27o1_500.jpg)


	79. Take Your Tiny Artist To Work Day IV

Steve spends most of his day at SHIELD wondering if he's going to wake up. Phil crushes his feeble objections to getting a job because he's with Natasha with the hobnailed boots of truth.

“The only reason I didn't contact you earlier,” he says, neatly cutting a large sandwich in half, “is that I didn't want to hunt down a busy college student when I didn't even have the position set up. Here you go, love.” He gives the larger half to Maria Hill, the woman who showed up with it once lunch break was called, and she smiles. She seems to be simultaneously some kind of PA and Phil's girlfriend, so at least Steve won't be unprecedented.

“I guess I can see that,” he says, putting salad onto his paper plate with two plastic forks. There's a cafeteria to seat everyone and feed those who don't bring or order food, but they're sitting at a round table near the fridge in the studio, Frank and Natasha wearing bathrobes that look bizarrely normal with their theatrical hair and makeup. Clint had spent the morning talking to the toy designers and only returned a few minutes ago to give Steve and Natasha a kiss and take his share of the salad. He has a small black bag of new things to test, and Steve feels silly for being the only person who seems to be the slightest bit embarrassed about it.

“It's so awesome that you're an underground comic success,” Clint adds, giving Steve an extra cherry tomato, and he rolls his eyes.

“You'll see why it's so far underground when you read it, Clint.”

“Whatever, we'll be able to say we were into you before you were cool.”

“I liked it,” Frank growls, speaking for the first time since they sat down.

Steve looks over in real surprise. “You did?”

“I did,” he says, refolding a piece of lavender stationary and tucking it back into his brown paper bag. Steve would never have read it, but he can understand the impulse. “And I liked the ending.”

“We'll have to catch up, Clint,” Natasha says, and Maria laughs.

“I won't. And the ending was cheesy, but that's more of a feature than a bug in something that is a bit of cheeseburger already.” She gives Phil a fond look, and he thanks her for putting up with his obsessions. Steve wants to draw them together, but now is of course not the time. They match in elegance, despite having almost no other obvious quality in common.

It's a short meal, because there's a lot more to do today for everyone but Steve, because it turns out that Clint has a lot more to do with the management of SHIELD than Steve realized, and vanishes off to the main offices with Phil. “We really are family here,” Maria tells him, looking amused. "In the finest Mafia sense." She's dressed like Pepper, but there's something kind of like Nick in her bearing. It's an interesting combination and he gets her permission to sit in the little shared office just off the studio and draw her while Natasha sips chilled water and sits on the edge of the desk, idle as she waits for the wardrobe people to wrangle Frank into the male version of what she's wearing now, a collection of white straps that remind him of Emma Frost.

With the usual weird serendipity of conversation, she says, “You and Phil are coming to the solstice party, right?”

She glances up from her computer. “Of course. Can your whole commune come? Don't make any dirty jokes.”

“Don't worry, there are only so many of Tony's vices I can absorb,” Natasha says, “and yes, we'll all be there. I also secured an invitation for Salma, I think you'd like her.”

Steve is pretty delighted with this information himself, and after he says so they move on to discussing whether or not he wants to attend in drag, cut off by Natasha being called back to work. She leaves the door cracked behind her, and they can just hear Frank greeting her with, “I feel like my balls are in my goddamned neck.”

“That can be a selling point for the real masochists,” Natasha replies. “Arms up.”

Steve grins, and Maria chuckles. “I'm surprised you're in here drawing me,” she says, and he shrugs.

“I need to get better at women.” It was true on Halloween, and it's still true now. He's not expecting the way it makes Maria laugh, and he tries to catch the expression while he can.

“It's true,” she says, “every girl in 'Captain America' has the same face.”

“See?” Steve says, erasing and redrawing her hairline. “I'm trying to challenge and improve myself.”

“You're a rare and precious beast, then, and I'm glad to help.”

“How did a guy like Frank end up modeling, anyway?” Steve asks Maria, finishing a study of her nose in particular.

“He was having a bad time, so Phil gave him a job to keep an eye on him.”

“Ah.” Steve has become familiar with the heavier connotations 'a bad time' can have, given that in Natasha's house the phrase can refer to things like Tony's near-terminal poisoning and attendant alcohol abuse a couple years ago or to the whole horrible case of Bruce's parents, and something in Maria's eyes says that this one was particularly grim.

“He's doing a lot better these days, though. He's in trouble if he _stops_ bitching. You know the type.”

Steve thinks of Bucky, Loki, and Tony, and grins. “Yeah, I do.”

“They wanna make that heel any sharper?” Frank grumbles, and Steve pokes his head out to see him flat on his back, Natasha's boot resting on his chest. “I don't think it's punctured my fuckin' aorta yet.”

Natasha sighs, tossing her extensions. “Safeword or shut up, boy.”

He snorts, giving her an affectionate pat on the calf while someone adjusts their camera. “Sir, yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter glancingly refers to the UNBEARABLE CARNIVAL OF ANGST that is everyone's backstory. Frank's family is deeeeaaadd, Tony has volumes rather than piffling little issues, and Bruce's family history is best expressed with this face: D8


	80. The One Where Phil Keeps Being A Dork And Loki Starts Reading The Comic

Nick checks on Steve's precious babies at around half-past one, long after Thor and Bucky have lurched up and sought breakfast. Tony and Loki are still asleep, all tangled in each other and totally adorable. Tony is such a brat that Nick tries not to encourage him when he's awake, but since he's not, he sits on the edge of the bed and pets him for a while. Loki too, who's also a brat, but a little more obviously desperate to be loved. He's also more alert, and wakes up first, opening one eye.

“Hi,” Nick says, and Loki smiles.

“Afternoon, sir.” He closes his eyes and purrs like a cat, squirming as Nick gently scratches him behind one ear.

“Such a cute kitty,” Nick says. “You gonna be part of our next Animal Day?”

Loki yawns. “Probably. The idea of getting to swat Thor when he's annoying appeals to me.”

Nick chuckles, leaning in to kiss him, until Tony mumbles, “You know, it's rude to squish people in a kiss and not offer them any.”

“Sorry, baby,” Nick croons, and shifts down to kiss Tony as he turns in his arms.

“Mmm. That's better,” he mumbles, and by all appearances, falls asleep again. Nick rolls his eyes and strokes Tony's hair.

“I'm not used to not being the biggest brat in the house,” Loki says softly, and Nick chuckles, lying down next to Tony.

“I'm sure you can beat him if you try,” he says, putting an arm over Tony to hug him and Loki at the same time. Loki sighs, cuddling closer.

“What are Thor and Bucky up to?”

“I gave them chores to do after breakfast,” Nick says, yawning.

“Thor always has been handy,” Loki agrees, and the three of them lie there together for a while.

“Okay,” Tony says at last, mumbling into Nick's shoulder, “I should probably get up and eat a thing.”

“Yes,” Loki mutters, not moving a muscle.

“Not it,” Nick adds, and Tony weakly shakes one fist.

“You're a bastard, Nick.”

He kisses Tony's temple and then sits up. “Yeah, yeah. What do you kids want?” He's surprised at how shyly Loki says something about a sweet omelet, and Tony grins.

“You are so cute,” he says softly, turning to kiss Loki. “I'm sure papa bear can hook us up.”

Nick is quite willing to oblige, and makes them an enormous fluffy omelet with poisonous strawberry jam and a little cream cheese, timing it so they they emerge from their showers and finish their primping right when it's done. Nick really does enjoy feeding his family, and just sits and watches them devour it. “You are a fucking god,” Tony says once he's done vacuuming up his food, and Loki agrees, finishing in three adorable prissy little bites.

“It's nice to have my divinity recognized,” Nick says, and then follows the buzzing of a new text message to his phone. It turns out to be just the latest of about fifteen of them, all variants of _Nick you didn't tell me you were fucking the Captain America guy why not omfg_

“Hey,” Nick says, “we're fucking the Captain America guy.”

“...Captain America?” Loki asks, as Tony bursts out laughing.

“Steve drew that fucking thing?”

“Drew and wrote,” Nick says, scrolling back through the other texts to make sure they really are nothing but Phil freaking out. “God, Phil, you're such a fuckin' dork,” he mutters.

“So he's totally hiring him to draw sexy comics, right? I mean, he's finally got his shit together?”

“He has his shit together, and if Steve doesn't have a SHIELD gig now it's only because he used lethal force to defend himself.” He calls Phil to make sure as Tony and Loki clean the kitchen.

“Nick,” Phil says by way of greeting, “I can't fucking believe you.”

“Would you believe I forgot?”

“Maybe, but you're still a dick.”

“You got him to take the job, yeah?”

“Of course, Nick. I have breath in my body and I'm not currently using it to cry.”

“Good, good. Thirty-five percent, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. How's the boss?”

“Lovely as ever, and keeping Frank in line.”

“You and Maria have time to come for dinner, or am I gonna see you at Emma's and not before?”

“Probably the latter, now that I need to actually get Steve onto the payroll and figure out whose story to give him.”

They talk a while longer, and when Nick hangs up he's alone in the kitchen. Out on the couch Loki is poring over the comic on Tony's tablet, the man himself nowhere to be seen. “He went to the lab,” he says without looking up. “And this is incredibly corny, but since I'm not putting it down, I don't know how much I can complain.”

“That's what I said,” Nick says, settling beside him and putting an arm around his shoulders. Loki arranges himself against him and taps to the next page, where Cap is meeting Margot Charron for the first time. As far as Nick is concerned, Margot is the best character, an Afro-French resistance leader who takes precisely no shit from anyone, smokes cigars, and spends most of her time in male drag.

Loki snickers. “Wow, Nick, he knew he loved you before he met you.”

“It's eerie, isn't it?” Nick agrees. On the page before them, Cap gives the correct password and then stammers that he didn't expect his connection to be so, so... Black? Margot supplies, and Loki looks about as charmed as Nick had been by Cap's response that he was going to say 'pretty.' Margot is shaded a deep grey and has yellow irises that suggest light eyes and very dark skin, and she is pretty, even if she laughs at Cap for saying so.


	81. Take Your Tiny Artist To Work Day V

Phil is adorably proud of SHIELD, and Steve really can't blame him. The place is massive, and so much more pleasant than Steve would have expected. Not that a sex business can't be nice, of course, Steve had just not been counting on an honest-to-god company daycare, to say nothing of delicious sheet cake stashed in one of the cafeteria freezers.

“Joan sent Frank in with eight of these, bless her heart,” Phil says, midway through the tour as he unwraps an untouched cake and cuts a small piece for each of them midway through the tour. “She's the type that loves through food, and she's a wonderful person.”

“I thought there was a note in Frank's lunch bag,” Steve says, waiting for his slice to thaw enough to eat. It's some kind of chocolate and looks very good. “I don't see any, but this is nut-free, right? I'm allergic.”

A look of panic crosses Phil's face and he checks a permanent marker scrawl on the cling wrap before relaxing. “I thought this was one was the chili chocolate, and it is. But one of them _did_ have Nutella, so thanks for letting me know.”

Steve smiles. “No problem.” The cake is subtle and spicy and dark, and doesn't make Steve's throat even think of closing up on him. As they eat, Phil tells him a bit about Joan, who has been with Frank since a few months after he hired him.

“She's lovely, but has _terrible_ social anxiety. When I think of the courage it took her to approach Frank at all, I feel like giving her a medal or something.”

“I'll bet,” Steve says, eyes wide. Despite the dainty note in the lovingly packed lunch, Steve had been picturing someone rather more like Natasha than some kind of painfully shy compulsive baker.

Phil sighs. “...You know, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but either of you might be here on Father's Day. There used to be two children. Now there aren't any.'

Steve's heart twists in a painful way that has nothing to do with any medical condition. “Oh.”

“It's a terrible day for him, but he'd rather work, so just don't even mention buying a greeting card if you see him, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. “Anything else?”

“No.” He smiles sadly. “I'm really glad he has Joan to look after him these days.”

“The secret ingredient in this cake is definitely love,” Steve says. He would know, having spent his entire life from the age of about eleven up giving his own lumpy, ugly, and heartfelt baked goods to Bucky. They're prettier these days, but made in the same spirit as ever.

Phil smiles. “Yeah, it is.” Once they've finished their cake, it's on to take a look in on R and D, where Steve can examine the many shiny extruders and crucibles and other machinery and Dr. Cho is happy to tell Steve all about body-safe materials during a tea break. Like Phil, she seems entirely too mild-mannered to be here, but her eyes are bright as she talks about the future of polymers and the chemical composition of sexual fluids.

“I really do think a strapon with nervous system feedback will be possible within my lifetime, even if I'm too old to be working on it or using it.” She really is beautiful, and the image of her benefiting from such an invention makes Steve blush before he can tell himself not to think it. An alarm on her phone goes off and she excuses herself to go check on the dildo prototypes she left curing under UV light, and Steve can't help but feel a little relieved. Phil smiles as though he knows what Steve is thinking, and they linger long enough for him to finish his own cup of tea before moving on to the other photography studio. 

“I thought we should have two,” Phil says, “since the cleaning here has to be so much more stringent than on the other side.” They're standing in the ground-floor lobby, thankfully, and could be anywhere if not for the large poster on the wall asserting that there is no one here under the age of eighteen, and the choice of tasteful nude studies for decoration. “Please, let me know if you reach your saturation point, I kind of forget how awkward this can be for people outside the industry.”

Steve chuckles. “Not for long.”

“You don't have to go explicit, you know,” Phil says, leading the way to the desk. “We don't sell as many pin-ups, but they do sell if they're good, and yours would be. We can make you the next Gil Elvgren.”

“...Could I do both?”

“That is exactly the kind of thinking we encourage at SHIELD,” he says, and then introduces Steve to the receptionist, an Asian girl who looks too young to be here and goes by Jubilee.

“Your family name is Lee and your parents call you Jubilation, it's kind of inevitable,” she says, shrugging, and Steve grins.

“I guess so. I think Jubilation is a lovely name.”

“You sound like my grandma,” she says, “but I forgive you.”

“Are we on schedule today?” Phil asks, and she consults her computer for a moment.

“Looks like it, boss. Silver's flight got here on time, and Nocturne's finally over that rash she got when her salon changed waxes on her, so we haven't even had to figure in makeup time to hide it.”

“Wonderful,” Phil says, and looks to Steve. “No one gets to work with anything contagious, of course, but it looked awful even after it stopped hurting.”

“Essential oil allergy?” Steve asks. A mall kiosk selling the stuff had nearly killed him once, and he still can't be sure which one of the many spilled vials had been his own personal poison.

“Think so,” Jubilee says. “My sign language isn't top-notch though, so I'm not sure. Just that it was something in the wax. She's not deaf,” she adds, “but she can't talk.”

“We have a very diverse workforce,” Phil adds, and Steve smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story: Friend with severe nut allergy is ordering from a pizza place, using a groupon with a minimum. So he says what the hell, I'll get dessert. "Does this chocolate thing have nuts?" he asks. "Oh no," the guy taking the order assures him, and starts to list the ingredients. One of the first is FUCKING NUTELLA. @_@
> 
> PS: Nocturne is a character from a 1992 issue of Spiderman. If you look her up, the one in this universe looks like the one from her origin issue, not the whitewashed and Barbie-fied version who has apparently shown up more recently.


	82. The One Where Tony Gives Pepper A Foot Rub

The funny thing about shoot days is that Pepper and Natasha tend to get home at about the same time. In a house full of freelance scientists, artists, students, and layabouts, most of the time Pepper is the only member of the commune working nine to five. Sometimes Nick has to operate during business hours, but generally if he's home he's on leave, and Natasha can tap out her advice column at whatever time of day she feels like it. Shooting takes place on Pepper's shift though, so she comes home to find her beloved mistress all soft and showered and de-glammed, cuddled up with Steve on the couch.

“Hey, princess!” Tony appears out of nowhere to take her briefcase and kiss her in greeting. “Drink, foot rub, blowjob?”

Pepper laughs, and returns the kiss. “Yes. In that order.” She steps out of her shoes and sighs, going to settle on the other side of Natasha, who turns and kisses her softly.

“Hello, pretty girl,” she says, and Pepper shivers, leaning into her.

“It's good to be home,” she says, and Steve looks up from the laptop and smiles.

“It is.”

“Is that your SHIELD contract?”

He goes pink. “Yeah. I really doubt Phil would rip me off, but I never sign anything without reading it.”

“It's a good policy, and we do have legal counsel if you want it.”

“...We do?” Steve blinks at her, suddenly looking like the young and very broke student that he is.

Natasha chuckles. “Such a good girl, always keeping things in order for us.”

Pepper blushes, and kisses her again. Natasha hugs her tightly and then lets go. “Find something more comfortable to slip into and then come back.”

“As long as you'll hold Tony here for me, mistress. He owes me a drink, a foot rub, and a blowjob.”

Natasha chuckles. “Of course.”

Upstairs Pepper can get out of her bra and her stockings and every other restrictive thing. She brushes her hair out and puts it in a basic ponytail before throwing on a housedress and heading back down. Steve is in the process of signing his contract, and Tony is setting up towels, a basin of water, a pumice stone, and a little bottle of peppermint lotion. She probably doesn't need the stone, but it's irritating to find a rough patch on her heels during a foot rub and not having anything handy to fix it. 

He grins at her, kneeling by the basin. “Ready?

There's a gin and tonic on the end table, a slice of lime suspended between the ice cubes as moisture beads on the sides of the glass. “So ready,” Pepper says, taking her seat and her first sip of the drink as Tony sets her feet into the hot water to soak.

“Done selling your soul to SHIELD, kiddo?” Tony asks, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Just part of my soul, Tony.”

Pepper flicks the water with her toes, lightly splashing Tony and making him give her reproachful puppy eyes that are ruined by his grin.

“Technically, renting,” Natasha says, pulling Steve into her arms after he sets his computer aside. He sighs and cuddles close, resting his head on Natasha's chest as she puts her other arm around Pepper. “The rights eventually revert to you. Tony, be a good boy and fix us a drink while Pepper soaks.”

“Same thing?” he asks, hopping up. 

“Yes.” She turns her head to kiss Pepper's cheek, making her shiver happily.

“And you can just pour me a tonic and lime, thanks,” Steve adds.

“I love you so much, mistress,” Pepper says quietly, after Tony has bounded away to the kitchen, and Natasha smiles.

“I love you too, precious girl.” Steve just makes a happy little cooing noise, and Natasha chuckles, kissing the top of his head. “And of course I love you too, little one.”

“Good,” he says, sounding a little shaky.

“What's wrong?” Natasha asks, body tensing a little against Pepper's in concern. Pepper reaches across her to put a hand on Steve's ribs, palming the sharp little ridges through his shirt.

“I just can't believe I have a paying gig, and it's freaking me out a little.”

“You'd think I had taught you nothing,” Natasha clucks. “Just start slow. Draw some pinups and see how much trouble they give you.”

“Also,” Tony says, returning with their drinks and one of his own, “you have junk references most people can only dream of.”

“Is than an offer to pose?” Steve asks, and Tony laughs, handing the glasses around. 

“Of course it is, Steve.” He kneels at Pepper's feet again, takes a sip of his drink before getting to work. Pepper loves her high-heeled shoes and is willing to put in the work to keep them from damaging her. She and Natasha do calf stretches together, and Pepper uses clear arch supports and other tricks to make the shoes conform to her foot instead of trying to force things the other way around. Still, at the end of a long day, there's nothing like a nice soak and a foot rub from some qualified individual. Tony's hands are strong and sure and out of everyone here he has known her the longest. He knows exactly how to slide his thumbs along her arches and to pull her small toes straight. She buys the right size, but after enough time on her feet, getting a bit crammed forward is a matter of physics. She sighs and flexes her feet in Tony's grasp, melting into the couch and against Natasha as he works. She isn't exactly asleep or even dozing, but she does check out of the conversation for a while, coming back in time to hear Tony talking to Steve.

“Last I heard the theme was 'Fantastic Bestiary,' so I was thinking we could be nymphs and satyrs, but we're not safe until we get the physical invitations. She's old-fashioned that way.”


	83. The One Where Steve Gets To Work

Steve is the first one to see the invitation, out by the mailbox at six a.m. He woke himself up with wheezing, and while Bucky and Pepper had been able to get back down after helping him manage his attack, Steve is awake for the day. He brings in the paper, some junk mail, and a giant cream-colored envelope that looks like a wedding invitation except for the delicate snake skin pattern in lighter cream.

After throwing the junk away, pouring himself some juice and starting a slice of toast so his pills will stay down, Steve opens the envelope, because the address written in silver pen is simply to the house number. The card inside is patterned like a tiger's pelt, with an enormous feline eye in silver. Inside, it's addressed to 'Natasha Romanov and Those Who Belong To Her.' Steve shivers a little at that and feels some kind of amorphous shame at liking it so much before ordering himself to get over it and read the rest of the message, which is a precise time on the expected date, a request to respond upon receipt, the stipulation of formal dress if one can't be bothered with a costume, and an invitation to bring a dish to share only if one feels the urge. He smiles, tucking it into the envelope again and starting a pot of coffee. He's supposed to limit his caffeine intake, but he likes real coffee, and unlike at the apartment with Bucky alternately complaining about waste and about being totally wired goddammit Steve I can feel my pulse in my eyeballs, there are enough people to drink the rest of it.

A good fucking and a night's sleep have left him a bit more composed than he was the last time he thought about attempting anything SHIELD-worthy, and as the coffee brews he doodles a few poses. A girl first, just to keep with tradition. He gets to use all the pulp elements he wants that don't get in the way of sex appeal, and that's a hell of a lot of pulp elements. By the time Pepper comes to join him, Steve has the beginnings of a triumphant monster hunter and is mostly done with his first cup of coffee.

“Glad to see you feeling better,” she says, pouring for herself. 

“Oh, a lot,” Steve says, twisting to look at her. “I hope you're not too tired.” Bucky has the day off and will be able to sleep in as long as he needs to, but Pepper is expected at the office in about two hours.

“I'm fine,” Pepper says, and sits down beside him. She's still in her robe, and Steve has a sudden, weird jolt of feeling, like being struck by gratitude-flavored lightning, just to be here with her and see her like this, all her glossy defenses of perfect hair, makeup, and clothing down. He feels like saying something, but even 'I love you' feels inadequate.

Instead he says, “What do you think?” tilting the sketch for her to see it right side-up. He has the girl posed with her foot on a fallen minotaur who is partially submerged in a rock pool. The details are still hazy, but she's built like a heavier version of Natasha, and Steve has already changed the set of her shoulders, changing his internal narrative from self-defense to one of having used herself as bait and being cheekily delighted in her success.

“I like her,” Pepper says. “Is the minotaur dead or just knocked out?”

“Well, the first impulse was that he tried to rape her and she killed him, but this is supposed to be sexy, not depressing. So now she lured him in with her feminine wiles and then knocked him out. I don't know if she's gonna roll him or if he's wanted in Chicago, but she's got him now.”

Pepper laughs. “I like it.”

One thing Steve can't decide is the details of the girl herself. Beyond wanting to be sure she's thick and curvy because that's both under-represented and fun to draw, he cares so little about what kind of beautiful to make her that nothing is coming to him.

He explains his dilemma to Pepper, who just shrugs. “Make her black, then. I don't know if I've ever seen an image like this of a black woman.”

“...Point,” Steve says, and starts penciling in some chunky locks and the suggestion of beads as Pepper examines the invitation. The hair really brings the concept together for him, and by the time Pepper has finished her coffee, eaten a yogurt, and gone back upstairs to return fully dressed and made up with every hair in place, an actual character is grinning out at them. She has defined muscles and a few scars that make Pepper chuckle.

“Inspired by Nick?”

“Just a touch. His facial scarring is really interesting.”

“And that's why we love you, dear,” she says. “Are you going to be a nymph or a satyr for the party?”

“...Nymph,” Steve says, blushing, and Pepper beams.

“You'll be so pretty!” She kisses him and heads out, and if his earlier gratitude to be part of this entire thing was like lightning, this is like the birth of a star. 

He's still flushed when Bruce comes in, smiling at the sight of the invitation. “Still Fantastic Bestiary?”

“Yeah,” Steve says

“Great,” he says, starting some tea.

“The man was a sheet ghost Halloween before last!” Tony calls across the morning stillness, following Bruce into the room and looking like he hasn't slept, which he probably hasn't. “A _sheet ghost_. He's just happy he doesn't have to even pretend to help think of anything else.”

“Mmmmaaaybe,” Bruce says sweetly, and Steve laughs.


	84. The One Where Tony Gives Pepper A Blow Job

So there's a lot of dynamics in this tangled web of theirs, and Tony is really glad he and Pepper lucked into it, or all these genuine urges to pamper her out of the goodness of his heart would still be mixed up with his sad and pathetic cycle of fucking up and apologizing. He's doing less of that these days, too, but that probably has more to do with the household as a whole.

Pepper loves a good foot massage in a way that borders on sexual and often strays across, and Tony puts his best effort into this one. He's not sore, or worried about anything in particular, and while he doesn't have a foot fetish, he totally has a Pepper fetish, and she's all nice and clean and smooth and peppermint-scented. He pauses to kiss the top of each foot.

Natasha chuckles, watching them. “You're such a good boy at heart, Tony.”

“Shush,” he says, not looking up. “You'll ruin my reputation.”

Pepper just moans happily and flexes her feet in his grasp and he croons to her about what a sweet girl she is and how pretty her feet are. It's kind of like he talks to machines, but hey, he really does love them, it's not _that_ fucked up. She shivers and sighs, and when Tony glances over again, Steve is beaming at them.

“You're really sweet together,” he says, and Tony grins.

“Not a word often applied to me, but I'll take it.”

“Oh, Steve knows your darkest secret,” Natasha drawls, “that you're actually a sweet boy and there's nothing you can do about it.”

Tony sighs in mostly-joking dejection and Steve just laughs. “Be a good boy and tell me what I should be if I can't just wear a pretty dress.”

“Oh, I don't know. We all went as robots once, that was fun.” Pepper moans, and Tony beams up at her and repeats the little thumb-circle that did it. “Last I heard the theme was 'Fantastic Bestiary,' so I was thinking we could be nymphs and satyrs, but we're not safe until we get the physical invitations. She's old-fashioned that way.” 

“Which I appreciate,” Natasha says, smiling as Pepper blinks and rejoins them. “Baby girl, do you want to be a nymph?”

“Mmhmmm,” Pepper says, and Tony chuckles.

“Give us a color, baby.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “Green. And you owe me a blowjob.”

“God, I thought you'd never ask.”

Between SHIELD castoffs and Natasha's omnivorous shopping they have a lot of fake fur and other things that can be used for costumes, and Tony will go through the whole pile with Steve sometime when Pepper isn't leading him to their bedroom. “You can come along,” she says to Steve and Natasha, so cool and offhand that it only makes Tony want to destroy that composure even more.

It seems like it takes forever, but really, between him and Natasha they soon have a green scarf on the doorknob and Pepper stripped to the skin. Steve just sits and watches with big eyes as Natasha kisses and gropes Pepper and Tony parts her legs, resting them on his shoulders and just nuzzling her inner thighs for a long moment because she likes the prickle of his beard against her skin. He gradually nuzzles closer as Natasha sucks on Pepper's nipples, making her shudder and moan.

Tony calls it a blowjob on a woman for reasons of convenience, equality, and scientific accuracy. Most of the time good oral sex doesn't involve much actual blowing, but Tony finds himself doing it much more often on the clit section of the human genital spectrum. First he kisses all around Pepper's outer lips because it drives her crazy, and then breathes lightly on her until she's squirming before dipping his tongue into her cunt and avoiding her clit because he is a bastard. Pepper whines into Natasha's mouth, hips rocking up into Tony's, trying to get him to do more than breath on her hard little clit. At last he takes pity on her, lapping and gently sucking and rolling the flat of his tongue over and over her as she gasps and squeaks. He moans and devours her, slick running into his beard in the way that he's never sure is more nasty or hot. Well, right now it's _definitely_ hot, as is the look on Steve's face when Tony comes up for air.

“Someone should see to that boy,” he says, and Natasha chuckles, her scent mingling with Pepper's as they both get wetter and wetter.

“I should,” she says. “Steve?”

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Get me the SHIELD strapless. The pink one.”

“Yes, ma'am!” Steve chirps, and is back with it in a moment. 

Tony chuckles against Pepper's flesh, making her cry out. “You getting there, baby?” he purrs as Natasha sits up to fit the dildo into herself, moaning quietly as Steve whimpers.

“Yes!” Pepper gasps, and Tony works her faster as Natasha rolls Steve onto his belly beside them, tipping her over the edge as Natasha pushes two fingers into Steve and makes him cry out. Soon she's ramming him into the mattress, dildo sliding almost completely out with each thrust before bottoming out again and making him moan. Keyed up as he from watching, it's still long enough that he and Pepper can squeal and hold hands as they come at the same time, each one so hard it looks a little like a seizure. Not that Tony knows much about what it looks like, groaning as he laps up Pepper's gushing.

“Well,” Bucky says quietly as Tony is trying to gather the strength to raise his head, “looks like I missed a good show.”

They all laugh softly, and when Bucky cuddles in with them, he smells like Loki, which makes Steve yawn and demand details in the morning. Tony can't sleep, but he waits for them to drop off, and slips away to the lab.


	85. The One Where Six Satyrs And Four Nymphs Go To A Party

Bucky is kind enough to tell Steve all about plowing Loki like the back forty when they emerge just in time for lunch, and Loki grins and adds details of his own until the end of the meal, when Natasha calls a meeting of all present, which today is everyone but Pepper.

“All right,” she says when they're all gathered in the living room, “it's Fantastic Bestiary after all. Nymphs and satyrs still sound good?”

“You know Bruce is soulless bastard who doesn't care,” Tony says, and Bruce makes a soft sound of agreement, apparently in the middle of a game of _Angry Birds_ and not even looking up. “And I'm such a satyr. I even have the beard.”

“As do I,” Thor agrees, an arm around Loki.

The final tally is that everyone is going to be a satyr except for Loki, Steve, Pepper, and Natasha herself. Steve has always been more about 2D art than craft projects, but stapling and hot-gluing the fake fur to torn up old pairs of jeans is fun, and Clint is a big help in sorting and matching it so that everyone's goat parts will approximately match their hair. Bucky helps Thor turn tattered sneakers into hooves, and by the time Pepper comes home there's a pack of satyrs to greet her, complete with realistic horns borrowed from SHIELD studios. Watching them all come galloping up to her in her neat little suit and perfect French twist, Steve suddenly wishes he were a photographer and could capture this particular instant in all its glory.

The nymph costumes are mechanically easier, just filmy dresses and wraps, but deciding on individual themes takes some discussion, Natasha and Pepper's combined array of nymph-like things piled on Natasha's bed. Steve and Loki sprawl amid the beauty while Natasha and Pepper hold fabrics to their skins and discuss makeup.

“You know I can dress myself as a lady, right?” Loki eventually asks, and Natasha laughs.

“Then help us decide what Steve should be, you lazy thing!”

“Some excuse for blue, of course. Steve, darling, would you rather be sky, ocean, or a blue flower?”

Steve ponders this, and then turns his head to see a sheer scarf that's dark blue and patterned with silvery fish. “Ocean,” he says.

With one thing to be nymph of taken, the others have an easier time, especially when Thor comes clopping by to say something in Aesir that makes Loki blush pink and then red when Natasha asks for a translation and Thor says, “I told him that I love to see my little snowflake in white.”

Since Steve is blue, Pepper decides to be the nymph of a green river, and Loki reminds Natasha that the Styx has a nymph of its own. Draped in black lace, she's so beautiful Steve can hardly bring himself to look away. This effect helps a lot when they're actually getting dressed for the party a week later. Every time Steve starts to worry that he looks less like a nymph and more like a circus clown, Natasha swoops down on him and wraps him in her gauzy, black, abstract wings and tells him that he is perfection itself.

That description actually sort of fits Loki, glittering with cubic zirconium, silver and white ribbons braided into his hair and delicate crystals sparkling on his cheekbones. All of them have a few, but Steve is pretty sure that Loki wears his the best. Pepper is an extremely close second, her own flashing like emeralds around her eyes and in her hair, and of course Natasha is flawless, gleaming black like a river at night, liquid liner making her already beautiful eyes dramatic as hell.

“Steve,” she says softly, holding him close as he fights back another wave of self-consciousness to pose for a group picture before they leave, “you are lovely. You are always lovely, but tonight is particularly special. Breathe deeply, and come stand with your fellow nymphs.”

He does do a little careful breathing, and then chuckles. 'Okay.”

Pepper takes his hand when he comes close enough, squeezing gently and arranging him for best effect with the assurance of a woman whose mother taught her about red carpet poses. Loki and Natasha find their own places, and even Steve has to admit that the little blue nymph with the pink blush and long blonde curls is pretty cute.

Bucky makes a wild, wonderful satyr. He hasn't shaved for days, and his hair is just brushing his shoulders, some of the longest it has been in years. Steve reminds himself yet again to capture the magic before Bucky gets tired of his mane and cuts it all off, and then Bucky is pulling him close to kiss him and Steve doesn't think about anything else for a while.

Because all ten of them are going, Tony has shelled out for a goddamn limo, and Steve feels conspicuous and ridiculous as he climbs in, but has to admit (at least to himself) that it's very comfortable and probably their best option. Loki of course settles in like he was born here, but Bruce and Clint both give him and Bucky sympathetic looks. They understand, and Clint kisses Steve's hand as Tony tells Bucky about Happy, who always drives Tony when he's available.

“He was the Stark family chauffeur for the fifteen minutes between the old guy retiring and me fleeing into the real world. He's a great guy.”

“Don't forget the perks!” Happy calls, and Tony laughs.

“He may be Natasha's biggest fan who isn't actually in her harem,” he says, grinning. “Last year Natasha gave him a peck on the cheek for being a help and I thought he was gonna fucking die.”

“Best death!” Happy chirps, and Steve laughs.


	86. Solstice Party I

Natasha's group arrives in style, and she and Pepper oblige Happy with a peck on each cheek at the same time in addition to his generous tip from Tony.

“Try not to drive into anything on your way back, buddy,” Tony coos, and Happy just flips him off and drives away, beaming. Natasha laughs, and leads her group up to the door.

Emma always throws a good party, and Natasha is very appreciative of the ambiance tonight. Where the Halloween party is all about the basement and the dark, dank age of the place, Emma celebrates the longest day on the roof and through the upper portions of the house, windows flung open and fresh flowers everywhere, along with paper lanterns in the tiny yard and around the perimeter of the roof. There's already a decent crowd, and Angel is working the door again, wearing white, feathery wings this time. She beams at the sight of Steve, and he blushes, looking cuter than ever.

“No ribbon this time, huh?”

“I guess not,” he says, smiling back.

Once they get inside, Nick and Pepper go to fetch drinks since they both love to be helpers, and Tony and Bruce are immediately appropriated by Helen, stunning in her delicate antlers and golden scales. Natasha isn't surprised to see no sign of Phil or Maria yet, it's still pretty early. There are a few SHIELD interns and some total strangers and Frank and Joan have showed up! Joan hardly ever has enough spoons for a true evening engagement, and Natasha is delighted to see her. She murmurs to the others to get comfortable and then makes a bee-line for Frank, dressed as the Big Bad Wolf with a clinging red bundle on his back that has to be Joan.

“My,” she says, “what a big scowl you have, Grandmother.”

The scowl gets even bigger, and he reaches up to adjust one fluffy grey ear. “The better to annoy you with, my dear.”

“You're the cutest Big Bad Wolf ever,” Natasha coos.

“You think?” Joan says softly, peeking out from under the hood of her bright red cloak, revealing theatrical liner around her big dark eyes, and a wine cooler with a bendy straw in it, the narrow neck helping to keep her from spilling on Frank.

“I do think, and you're adorable too.” Natasha says, making her squeak and go pink. “And I see you found a use for those boots.” The boots in question may be the single most delightfully fetishistic item of footwear that Natasha has ever seen. Blazing true red, they're thigh-high and pony style, without even the psychological help of a chopstick heel. Joan just fits a size five, and her dainty, restrained feet are kind of incredible.

Joan giggles. “You don't have to walk when you ride wolfback.”

“I'm just glad I bullied you into letting Frank get them! You look amazing.”

Joan beams, says Natasha looks better than amazing, and hides under her hood again. Natasha chuckles. “Thanks. Most of mine are over on the couch, so far,” she says, “I should probably get back to them for a moment. Make sure they're all settling in.” She waves and goes over to her little collective. Steve is drinking his Sprite straight from the can to avoid a repeat of Halloween, and everyone else is also provided for. Including herself, as Pepper hands her a perfect gin and tonic.

Natasha thanks her with a kiss, and once she's sure everyone is comfortable and knows to meet back here at the end of the night, starts actually circulating. Emma sets the bar high for her costume parties, and so far everyone has reached it. Nocturne arrives as a bat-winged succubus and signs Natasha a pretty greeting before becoming absorbed in conversation with Emma's old friend Charles, who always seems to be fluent in whatever language is needed. He's just in some kind of generic black robe, but all becomes clear when Erik slides up next to Natasha, dressed as a demon in a way that really takes advantage of his natural style and menace.

“Oh, so he summoned you?” Natasha says, by way of greeting.

“Yes. After all, it's almost how it happened in real life.”

“I’ve always loved the way Emma's acquaintance includes sex workers and academics without strain.”

“Well, the main benefit of running a private school is oversight more aligned with one's values,” Erik says. “And Hank would have been graduated for a decade if we had had our charter then.”

“Good thing, too,” Natasha says as Emma comes up with Hank on a leash. He's on all fours and dressed as the cutest monster Natasha has ever seen.

Erik just rolls his eyes and mutters, “A damn good thing,” before submitting to Emma's hug and air-kiss. “Hello, darling,” he says, “lovely to see you looking so well even if I'm not sure what you are.” To be fair, Emma is simply arrayed in a fabulous white ballgown and could be almost anyone.

“I'm Beauty,” Emma says, sounding a bit like a four-year-old whose princess costume hasn't been read correctly, “and this is my Beast,” with a fond glance down at Hank.

“Rawr,” Hank adds helpfully, and Natasha laughs, crouching to be level with him.

“You're adorable,” she tells him very seriously. “Completely adorable.”

He blushes and of course it just makes him even cuter. “Thank you, ma'am.”

“I hope the out-of-towners make it,” Emma says, smiling. “I met Jane Foster in New Mexico, and once I realized her intern was her sub and that they would be both be here for a conference this summer, I extended an invitation.”

“And I suppose my darling boys having had a crush on her brain for years has nothing to do with it?”

“Nothing at all,” Emma says with an actual wink. “I wasn't thinking about my little pet, either. Was I, dear?” she coos to Hank, who just grins up at her.

“You never consider me,” he says, face completely straight. “You are a harsh mistress, and I would have you no other way.”

“Precisely,” she says, stroking his hair as he leans into her knee.


	87. Solstice Party II

Steve is fascinated by everyone around him, and after his first Sprite he gets his sketchbook from Bruce (who is carrying everything because he doesn't care about spoiling the effect of his costume) and starts making the rounds with it. He does quick studies of a few great costumes before the glimmering scales of a merman catch his eye. The man himself keeps it, because damn. He's so stupidly perfect that Steve is following him before it occurs to him not to.

“Excuse you?” the merman says, looking over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow as he reaches the foot of the stairs.

Steve's face is scalding, and he hugs his sketchbook to his chest. “I just wanted to draw you!”

He smiles. “Well. It wouldn't be the first time. I'm part of a group, come and draw the three of us.”

Steve scurries after him up the stairs and through a crowd of people having a dirty joke competition and on into what must be a guest bedroom, where a man in evening clothes and a woman in feathers are sitting on the neatly-made bed and sipping champagne. “Roman,” the woman says, “we were just about to start looking for you.”

Roman chuckles, taking her hand and kissing it before bestowing a similar caress on what must be the woman's husband, judging by their matching gold bands. He sits down beside them and the woman passes him a glass of champagne. “And who's your friend?” she says, smiling at Steve, who can feel himself blushing again.

“Hi. I'm Steve. I'm part of Natasha's package deal.”

She laughs. “Sue,” she says, extending a hand for him to shake. “This is my husband, Reed, and Roman would be the junior husband in a polyandrous society.”

Steve smiles. “I see. If he's a merman, what are you?”

“I'm the Classical sort of siren. Roman is a merman, and Reed is our human lover, captivated by both of us.” She turns and kisses Reed's cheek. “Also because he has no fashion sense and finds costumes stressful.”

“This is correct,” Reed says quietly, gesturing to his own black tie. “I like being able to be sure.”

Steve smiles. “You look a lot better than correct, Reed. Would you mind if I tired to really draw the three of you properly?”

Reed seems to think it over carefully, but then nods. Steve pulls up a chair and spends a happy twenty minutes or so trying to catch the proprietary and protective way these fantastic beasts keep their human to the middle. He has a nervous, slightly spacy face, and premature grey at his temples, but he doesn't seem to mind Steve. Quiet clopping, just audible over the music from downstairs and the general noise of conversation makes Steve look up to see Tony standing in the doorway. He's beautiful, wild and goatlike and perfect, and he saunters up to Steve, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” he groans, “don't go making friends with Reed! If he's your friend I'll have to be nice to him!”

“Tony!” Steve squawks, prepared to leap to the defense of this poor, shy, possibly autistic man, and then startled into laughter to see Reed serenely flipping Tony off.

“Same to you and more of it, fella,” Tony says, putting his hands on the back of Steve's chair to lean over the page.

“You really seem to bring that out in people,” Steve says, tilting his head back to look at him, and Tony chuckles.

“Tony is easy to deal with,” Reed says, shrugging and brushing invisible lint off of his shoulders. “He's always irritating in the same way.”

Tony laughs at this, and tells Steve all about what a terrible autocratic jackass Reed is in the lab, each objectionable behavior sounding more like Tony than the last. Sue points this out to him in her gentle voice, and Tony just laughs more than ever.

“I takes one to know one, Sue, and I know this man of yours way too well. Not so much the other one. Roman, are you an asshole like me and Reed?”

“No,” he says, stretching one long leg in a way that sends Steve's hand flying over the page, “I'm my own kind of asshole. Victor is more your speed.”

“He promised he would show up,” Reed adds, sounding somewhere between lost and petulant, and Sue kisses the corner of his eye.

“I'm sure he will, darling.”

Roman puts an arm around Reed and kisses the other cheek, and Steve smiles. “You really are a lovely trio.”

Roman thanks him with royal grace, and Steve takes the hint to take Tony's arm and let them alone again. Besides, there are all kinds of strange and beautiful and even familiar faces. T'Challa is here, dressed as a black panther as part of a really fascinating Wakanda tradition that he tells Steve about over some juice, and Salma has arrived while Steve was upstairs. The left side of her face is painted black, and all the clothing on that side matches, with a variety of colors on the other. In dim light it looks like that half of her doesn't even exist, an eerie and beautiful effect.

“What are you?” Steve asks, fascinated.

“I'm a nasnas,” she says. “I'm terribly dangerous.”

“Oh, dear,” Steve says, “so many of you are, and I'm just a little ocean nymph.”

Salma laughs. “I'm sure your satyrs will protect you.”

“If they don't, we will,” Phil says from behind him, and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Jesus, Phil!” He whirls around to take in Phil's flawless suit, Maria's elaborate tiger costume, and the gold leash that connects them.

“Sorry. Please don't have an asthma attack that Natasha will blame me for.”

Steve laughs. “I think I'll be all right this time.”


	88. Solstice Party III (The One Where Jane Arrives)

Jane has always been nervous about parties, consistently nerdy and frequently chubby as a child. Now, with diet cereal, a workout schedule, and probably too much coffee, people tell her she looks incredible, but she's still a nerd and she's still sweaty-palmed and pathetic and this is party full of gorgeous rich people she doesn't know. The house doesn't really help, since it looks perfect. But Darcy is of course able to be impressed without being oppressed, and beams like a little kid seeing a particularly good Christmas tree and leaps out of the car to gawk. 

She's adorable in her acid green pleather jacket (to keep her street-legal,) lingerie, dragon hat, tail, and matching boots. It looks earnest and hip at the same time, and Jane feels like a kid in a lame Halloween costume as she pays the driver and steps out. Dragon and Princess had seemed like a cute idea, but her conical hennin feels like a dunce cap as she puts it on, and she grimaces, flicking the trailing pink veil over her shoulder.

“Your Highness, do not make your bad face at your costume,” Darcy chides, a hand on her hip and one green-gloved index finger extended. “You are the prettiest fucking princess, and you are going to act like it.”

“Bossy cow,” Jane mutters, but straightens her hat and takes Darcy's hand, giving it a squeeze. She squeezes back, lacing their fingers together, and they go up the stairs together. 

The girl at the door beams at them. “Omigod you guys are _so_ cute!”

“Told you, your Highness,” Darcy sing-songs, and Jane chuckles.

“Thank you. I'm Jane Foster,” she adds, and the girl smiles. She's so beautiful it makes Jane a little nervous, and she hopes that smile isn't just being polite to the creeper.

“Yeah, I know..” The smile must be genuine, it reaches her eyes and makes her look... well, like a devil dressed as an angel, but a goodhearted one. “Come on in, ladies, you're on the list.” She winks at them as they go by. “Not that I wouldn't have let such an adorable couple in,” she adds, and Jane can feel herself blushing.

“Come on, your Highness! Let's start drinking!” Jane laughs and lets Darcy tow her over to an impressive selection of liquor. In seconds Darcy has found a pair of bright, bottled, girly drinks that almost match their costumes. “God, it's like Halloween, but way better.”

“You have a point,” Jane says. For one thing, she has never seen this much effort put in by the guests of a party this big. The house is full of people, and almost everyone is something fabulous. There are satyrs dancing with nymphs and demons, and a kirin drinking the beer named for her as she talks to a tall man in a metal mask, holding the silver leash of a beautiful girl dressed as a unicorn, who kneels at his feet and looks fabulous and elegantly bored. After a moment she gives the leash a little tug, and the man looks down at her. They have no way to see his expression, but he strokes the unicorn's mane and she smiles up at him.

“See?” Darcy says. “Told you we should've had a leash for me.”

Jane sighs. “I know, Darcy. I know.”

After they finish their first drink and still no sign of their hostess, Darcy drags Jane onto the improvised dance floor and uses her usual mix of pheromones, alien mind control, and sheer enthusiasm to get Jane thinking more about the moment and less about how stupid she looks. She may be in a voluminous pink gown with a cheap corset over it, but she's having fun, damn it. Darcy grins like she knows what Jane is thinking, taking her hand and spinning her right into one of the satyrs. The biggest one, and hitting his chest is like hitting the world's friendliest wall. He catches her without the slightest appearance of effort, and then lets go as soon as they're both sure she's not going to fall, grinning down at her.

“Pardon me, your Highness.”

“You are pardoned,” Jane says as grandly as she can manage. “And subjects who keep the princess from falling on her ass get to address her simply as ma'am. And so do tame dragons,” she adds, with a glance at Darcy.

“There you are!” Emma calls, and comes sweeping over in all her perfection, a boy of her own on a leash and Jane is really starting to feel the lack. She goes to thank Emma, talking to her until Darcy's frantic signaling gets too obvious and Jane follows her out of the room.

“What is it?”

“That is such a dumb question,” Darcy says, pulling a bright green leash out of her jacket pocket and dropping to one knee. “Use this as it pleases you, mistress.”

It still takes Jane's breath away, how easily Darcy says these things. She swallows hard, and takes the leash. “Three strikes for insubordination,” she says, dealing them onto Darcy's shoulders with the doubled up leash, making her flinch more in surprise than pain, “And four kisses for being right.” She raises Darcy up, kissing the barely-perceptible pink marks and then putting the fourth one on her mouth, swallowing up the little whimpering sound she makes as Jane loops the leash around her neck. Darcy probably swiped it from a vet's office or something, and Jane kisses her softly. “Such a good girl,” she says, and leads Darcy back into the party. 

The big satyr is on a couch now, talking to a beautiful person who might be a tall woman or a drag queen. She's long-legged and elegant and dressed in glimmering white and silver and makes Jane feel like a photo of herself on her fourth Halloween that her mom insists on displaying: Round and rubicund and dressed in a cheap, puffy, pumpkin costume that makes her almost perfectly spherical. The satyr catches sight of her and beams, waving them over even as his companion sneers in icy disdain.


	89. Solstice Party IV

Steve has a nice drawing of Sue and her men, and he tucks it away to turn it into a real piece later before he settles onto a couch next to Salma, Phil on his other side and Maria beyond him, all of them nibbling on the cheese biscuits Steve made to share. Salma made bride's finger cookies, and Steve's allergy feels like a real tragedy for the first time in a while, because they look amazing on what Clint has dubbed The Table Of Death, where everything with nuts or strawberries lives.

In theory Steve wouldn't want to talk about work at a party, but in theory he's not working for SHIELD. Phil has the grace to apologize before pitching him a comic script, and Steve really doesn't mind. “What kind of concept?” he asks, smiling as Phil self-consciously straightens his tie.

“It would be a lot of lesbian stuff and straight femdom,” Phil says, feeding Maria another biscuit. “It's the usual thing, all-female, all-bisexual aliens, lost space capsule full of men, you know the drill. It's not very interesting, but I think you could give it some character.”

“Perhaps. Any pegging?”

“I can ask about adding some,” Phil says, with a little glance at Salma, who displays her ribbon-free wrist and winks at him. Phil smiles. “I see.”

“Honestly,” Salma says, “your lesbian aliens are an amusing diversion from my own problems.”

“Natasha did say you were new to the local scene,” Phil says. “What's up?”

She rolls her eyes. “Chastity fetishists.” She gestures to her covered body. “They don't seem to grasp that I _want_ to show the goods to the right man. I don't get off on denial, I'm just selective.”

“Are you at least showing your face now?” Steve asks.

Salma chuckles. “Yes, because I'm not ashamed to be seen at Shadowbox. Thank Natasha for me, she has saved my life, even with losers who won't take 'if we get serious I want to get some use out of your dick,' for an answer.”

He grins. “I will.” His folder slips and Salma helps him catch it. 

A doodle of a super-deformed Captain America falls out, and she smiles. “Who's this? He's cute.”

Of course, at this question Phil jumps in. “That's Captain America, the reason I know that Steve can draw a good comic.”

Steve groans, moving to hide his face in his hands before he remembers his makeup and stops just in time. “Phil will talk it up way too much, so keep that in mind if you decide to read it.”

She laughs and says she will, listening attentively to the whole thing about John Burnes, a gangling beanpole of an aspiring poet, desperate to do his part against the Axis and rejected for military service over and over for his abysmal health. That part is _totally_ autobiographical, and Steve's research on the available treatments for asthma at the time have made him all the more grateful to be living now. John had ended up meeting a sympathetic scientist on a quest to perfect the human form and becoming his finest piece of work. Of course the scientist gets killed so there's not just an army of Captain Americas, and John has to be a performing monkey before getting to have real adventures.

“So it's a story about true love and steroids?” Salma says after listening to Phil's description, and that makes all four of them laugh, even Maria where she's leaning on Phil, half-asleep like a real cat.

“Pretty much,” Maria says, yawning.

“It sounds interesting,” she says, standing and readjusting her long top. “But I'm getting as sleepy as Maria, sitting here. See you later?”

“Probably,” Phil agrees, and Salma falls into step with a girl dressed as a phoenix. “Wonder what she'll think of the ending,” Phil murmurs, and Steve groans.

“Please, it's so cheesy.”

Phil looks at him very seriously. “Steve, I hate to break it to you, but it made me cry.”

“Because it's manipulative as hell,” Steve mutters. He had realized that the man he had created would not have dealt well with the Cold War, and not wanting to find himself writing an epic alternate history, had killed him in a grand and self-sacrificing sort of way over the Pacific. But he hadn't been banking on Margot Charron, who had loved John too much to give up on at least looking for his body for burial, and had even gone so far as to submit herself to a recreation of the same process that gave Captain America his powers. In the face of her devotion, Steve had capitulated and drawn the last few pages, where it's the year 3,000 and she finds John in a block of ice at the North Pole. Steve sighs. “I guess the panel where Margot puts the hood of her parka back and we see who it is is pretty good.”

Maria chuckles, the sound low and dark as she leans into Phil's lap, sprawling over him in a casually possessive and very feline way. “Steve, you made a grown man run and wake his girlfriend at three in the morning to make her pretend to care about his OTP. And it meant so much to him that I was hardly even mad.”

“It was a Saturday,” Phil says, with an embarrassed cough, and Steve laughs.

“I still can't believe you're a fan.”

“Believe it,” Phil says, and Maria chuckles, shifting onto her back, her head and shoulders cradled in his lap.

“You're such a dork, sir. It's cute.”

“Thank you, dearest girl,” he says, and leans down to give her a quick kiss.

“I don't know how I'm supposed to stop drawing when everyone is so adorable to each other,” Steve mutters, opening his sketchbook again.


	90. Solstice Party V

The thing is, _Darcy_ knows full well that Jane is a goddamn queen of the universe, but it's never so obvious to anyone else. Particularly not this bitch with the perfect hair. He's giving Jane that same old look, the 'I've been fooled by the doe eyes and introversion' look. Also, total jealous bitchface. Darcy knows that look. It's the one she's kind of trying not to give the satyr. He's cute and all, but Jane is so gooey in lust with him that it would be really irritating if she wasn't holding Darcy's leash the way she is.

The satyr looks totally smitten, and introduces himself as Thor and his companion as Loki. Points for him, he recognizes the name Jane Foster, and doesn't get either of the two looks on his face that would mean Darcy has to gnaw said face right the fuck off. He doesn't smirk, like it's cute when girls try to do things, and he doesn't get that constipated look of thwarted male ego. Instead he frankly admits that he barely passed his science classes and that while he has seen her latest paper, he didn't really understand it.

“Loki did, though,” he adds, smiling at Loki, who appears to have been startled out of some jealous brooding.

“Really?” Jane asks, and Loki rolls his eyes.

“I wasn't paying that much attention, but it was interesting. Your real fans are Tony and Bruce, who could be anywhere right now.” He casts his painted eyes aside in a way that implies that Jane should perhaps go look for them in the next county, but doesn't say anything further.

“They could be,” Thor says, and pulls Loki into his lap like he weighs nothing even though he must be at least six-four. It makes him squeak and blush a bright pink, and Jane smiles at him.

“Feeling better?”

“...Yes,” Loki mutters, clinging to Thor and resting his face on his shoulder to sulk. He's actually kind of cute this way

“Loki and I have a complicated history,” Thor says, rubbing his back. “But yes, you should talk to Tony and Bruce, when we can find them. They love your work.”

“It's always good to meet fellow science geeks,” Jane agrees, eyes bright. “You said your household. How many of you are there?”

The answer is 'a lot.' Apparently with Loki added on the most recently, there are ten of them, all tangled together in the biggest poly system Darcy has ever encountered in real life. It sounds like a good time, like some kind of demented alternate-universe children's show, Happy Kinkster House or something. Thor laughs when she says so, and even Loki smiles.

“I suppose you could say that,” he says. “We all belong to Natasha, but some of us arrived in couples, and Tony and Pepper and Bruce are pretty much a triad, and Loki was my first love but we hadn't seen each other in ages.... It's complicated, but in a good way.”

“And open?” Darcy asks. “I hope it's open, with the way you've been eying my mistress, here.”

Thor blushes. “We are open. To tame dragons as well as princesses.”

“Oh really?” she asks, grinning and raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Jane says, not sounding sorry at all, “she's incorrigible.”

Thor just grins at them, and flags down another satyr. “Clint! Bring us some drinks and find out where Bruce and Tony are!”

He salutes, and vanishes for a few minutes only to return with a tray of drinks and little cheese biscuits that look totally amazing. “Hey,” he says, offering the tray to Jane first and then to Darcy, who is delighted to find that the biscuits are as good as they look. Thor introduces them and everyone shifts a bit to the side so Clint can sit down and sip some really gross mixture out of a plastic cup and ask them all about their current project. He doesn't really get it either, but like Darcy he's good at picking things up, and after he finishes his drink he rounds up Bruce and Tony, who turn out to be Banner and Stark, respectively. As in, Jane's mutual nerd-crushes. 

They circle the wagons and start talking about astrophysics, and that's _before_ Reed fucking Richards comes down the stairs. Darcy had had no idea that this was gonna be a science conference, but whatever. Jane is adorable when she's nerding out, and apparently Reed Richards is poly too, since his wife Sue is all over this really hot dude dressed as a merman and he seems actually happy about it, not just not minding.

“Hey,” Darcy says, finding herself next to the wife. “Darcy Lewis. I belong to Jane Foster.”

“Sue Storm,” she says, shaking Darcy's hand. “I belong with Reed more than to him, I think, but Roman is definitely mine.”

She laughs. “That's the merman's name, huh?”

“Yeah. He's an absolute doll, don't let him pretend not to be. Aren't you?” she adds as he returns to her side with more booze.

“If you insist,” he says, full of princely hauteur. 

Up close he's even more perfect, and Darcy sighs. “We have to take a picture of you with Jane, dude.”

“I get that a lot,” he says, not sounding displeased or way too happy about it, which is nice.

“So you're down?”

He blinks, and Sue smiles. “She's asking if you agree.”

“Oh! I'll be glad to,” he says. “Sorry, English is my third language.”

“That's pretty hot,” Darcy informs him, and he laughs, sounding a little surprised at himself.

“Thank you, I suppose.”

Darcy lets Jane commune with her people for a while before demanding adorable pictures, but at last she can contain herself no longer. “Jane!” she waves her phone menacingly. “You knew this was coming!”

She blushes as pink as her gown. “I did know this was coming.” Darcy always documents good costumes, and this evening is all about great ones.


	91. Solstice Party VI

By the time Steve has gotten some sketches of Joan, Frank, Phil, Maria, lesbian aliens, and Dr. Cho, there seems to have been some group agreement to take photos in what is probably technically the dining room. It's hard to tell in this kind of house. He has always been self-conscious about how he looks in photographs, but gets into the event radius anyway because Bucky is kneeling at the feet of an adorable girl dressed as a princess and Steve is a little jealous but more captivated by how beautiful they look together.

“Thanks,” she says, giving him a hand up after the pictures are taken, and Bucky grins at her.

“You're welcome, your Highness.” He glances over and catches sight of Steve. “Hey! There you are.”

“Here I am.”

“You know Natasha is gonna make you take pictures, right?”

“You will have to safeword to avoid it,” Natasha adds.

Steve groans, and sets his things down.. “I guess I can't blame you for wanting an all-nymph photo.”

There is of course an all-nymph photo, one of their group as a whole, one of Frank with Joan just peeking over his shoulder, another of Thor carrying Steve, and then on to the whole menagerie of fantastic beasts. One of them is a gorgeous unicorn, poised on white pony heels like gravity doesn't apply to her, a foot-long prismatic horn held to her brow with a clear band that her dark hair hides completely. Her white latex bodysuit glows against her skin, which is that lovely medium golden brown that is so hard to describe quickly without using food imagery and creeping people out. Steve brings out his sketchbook to try and catch her haughty grace and is well into his second quick study when a heavy hand on Steve's shoulder makes him jump and squeak, and the deep, metallic chuckle of its owner doesn't help much. 

He looks up and sees a metal mask and a deep green hood about a foot and a half higher than he is. “Hello?”

“Good evening.” There's a faint accent to his words, something Eastern European but impossible to place more specifically. He removes his hand back into the folds of his cloak. “I did not mean to alarm you, but if you are drawing Valeria, I want a copy.”

“Is that her name?”

“Yes. She is with me.”

“Ah, I see. Are you a unicorn hunter?”

He is, apparently based on the folklore of his native Latveria, a tiny country that doesn't get much international attention. He has just finished explaining when Reed appears at his elbow.

“Victor. Victor, we're talking about science, why aren't you with us?”

“...I must concede your point,” Victor says, taking Reed's arm. “You will remember about the picture?” he asks Steve.

“Of course,” Steve says, amused to see the little knot of the scientifically-inclined in their corner. Bruce and Tony are there, of course, but so is a woman Steve has never seen before, Loki, and Thor, of all people. Thor is by no means stupid, but the hard sciences are not his forte. And then the way Thor is looking at the woman registers, and Steve snickers and gets back to his drawing of Valeria. He has a lot of time, since she's photogenic and just vain enough for it to be cute, but at last she goes to join Victor, and Steve follows both to show them his sketches and to get a better look at this fairytale princess Thor seems so taken with.

“Steve!” Thor catches sight of him first, waving him over. They're on a sectional couch arranged into the corner to facilitate conversation, and almost before he knows it, Thor has bundled him into his lap. “Hi.”

“Hi, Thor,” Steve says, sharing an 'it's Thor, what can you do?' look with Loki, who is leaning against Thor's side. Besides, Tony is in Bruce's lap and Valeria is on Victor's, so Steve doesn't feel as conspicuous as he might otherwise.

“Oh, how lovely,” Thor says, looking at the open page. “It's a very good likeness.”

“It's just a sketch, but thanks.”

Of course he has to pass it around then, and the princess introduces herself as Jane Foster, a name Steve knows solely because of Tony hugging a scientific journal to his chest a few weeks ago and groaning, “Jane Foster let me hump your bbbrrrraaaaaaiiiinnnnn!” as he had rolled around the living room floor like a teenage girl with boy band merchandise. Steve has to assume the rest of the package has been added to that plea, because Jane is beautiful. She also seems very nice, and like she's shy in other situations. Discussing the future of space exploration seems to have relaxed her, and she's able to point out a problem in Reed's idea for radiation shielding with an equation Steve can't follow, politely asking before scribbling it onto his next blank page.

Steve catches Thor's eye over Jane's head and raises an eyebrow at him, deeply amused to see him blush. Someone here definitely has more of a crush on the woman than her work, and Steve really can't blame him. Once everyone has had a good look at the equation, he asks for the sketchbook back, and takes a study of Jane in between refining the first one of Valeria. Around him the discussion turns to non-ship methods of exploring the cosmos, wormholes and energy bridges and other ideas that make Steve a bit dizzy when he thinks about them too long.


	92. Solstice Party VII

Thor supposes that it's good to have Steve in his arms, because it keeps him from doing something stupid, like falling at Jane's feet and begging her to command him. He's attracted to all kinds of people, but this urge to really submit to anyone outside the group is rare, and flusters him a lot more than simple lust. He hugs Steve and kisses the top of his head, making him blush and snuggle a little closer.

“You guys are so cute together it's ridiculous,” Darcy informs them, coming to lightly kiss her mistress, and Thor laughs.

“So I have heard it said,” he agrees. Darcy doesn't captivate him the way Jane does, but she's extremely cute and he's more than happy to let her sit by him.

“Can I look at the sketches?” she asks Steve, and he blushes, but nods, opening the book the beginning of the evening when he had taken a few studies at home. Thor enjoys seeing them again as well, and beams when Darcy says, “Holy shit, these are like, art.”

Steve's flush deepens even as he laughs. “Thank you, I try.”

“Could you draw us? I'll totally pay you if you ink and color it.”

Thor grins, and Steve studies Jane where she's chattering away to Victor, and then looks back to Darcy. “Thirty bucks and I'll enlarge it onto nice paper, with discounts for any coloring mistakes.”

“Done,” she says, and shakes his hand before getting up and insinuating herself into Jane's lap to inform her. She's even lovelier when she blushes, and soon he has to let go of Steve so they can go use one of the upstairs rooms for a proper sitting. Tony and Bruce demand that she come see their lab while she's in town and she says that she will before Darcy tugs her toward the stairs.

Thor lets out a sad sigh at being abandoned, and Loki sneers, sliding into his lap. “Utterly bereft, aren't you?”

“Not anymore,” he says softly, cuddling Loki close and kissing him as Bruce and Reed start arguing about the effects of a newly-discovered radioactive isotope on living tissue. Loki tries to sneer again when Thor pulls away, but it isn't a very good one. “I adore you, darling snowflake,” he says softly in Aesir, and Loki blushes and slaps his shoulder in irritation, which just makes him laugh.

After a while the discussion peters out in favor of dancing, with a lot of waltzable tunes because it's the only dance Reed can do. He does it well, Thor must allow, and trying to teach Clint the steps is fun. Clint has no ballroom training but what the household has given him in snatches over the years, but he moves well and enjoys himself whether he's correct or not. Loki is always correct, and it's lovely to watch him and Natasha together. Roman invites Pepper onto the floor, and Victor dances with Valeria in his arms, her impossible boots almost never touching down. Tony and Salma make an interesting pair, and Bucky goes by in the arms of a Minotaur while Nick guides a tiny fairy around the floor.

“Okay,” Clint pants after a while, “I'm tired of fucking around, let's go find Steve.”

Thor gestures to Loki that he'll be upstairs, and then follows Clint. It takes them a bit to find the right room, an amount of time extended by walking into the public flogging of a selkie by a phoenix. Phil is among the spectators, bright-eyed and intent as he strokes Maria's hair where she kneels at his feet, watching the scene with feline fascination. Thor is having a hard time determining if the phoenix is a small man or an average woman, and the selkie is probably six feet tall when she stands up. It's a pleasing effect, and they forget their mission until the phoenix is helping the selkie up, praising her and accepting a blanket from a nearby gryphon. Thor joins in the round of applause for the selkie, who really was beautiful in her pain, and then ducks out again.

Thankfully Steve is meticulous, and he's still at work when they lightly knock on a bedroom door and Frank lets them in. “Hi!” Darcy chirps. Jane is standing and Darcy is kneeling at her feet, leaning her head against Jane's thigh and curling a casual hand around her ankle. It's a cute composition, and at first he doesn't even see Joan curled up in a chair, still nursing the same wine cooler. She waves, and Thor returns Darcy's greeting as Frank goes back to kneeling at Joan's feet. She waves with one little red-gloved hand, just a tiny flutter of the fingers. Steve smiles at both of them, adjusting a few lines.

“Hey. What did I miss?”

“Dancing and a totally hot public scene,” Clint tells him, adjusting a print on the wall that has somehow been tipped crooked.

“I can't dance, but the second one sounds pretty good.”

“I _knew_ this would be a sexy party!” Darcy crows as Jane buries her bright red face in her hands.

“We only caught the tail end,” Clint adds, looking over Steve's shoulder. “And Thor is happy to dance with people who can't dance. Like me.”

It's a forgone conclusion, of course, and they all troop down to the dance floor for Thor to teach Steve a few steps while Jane and Darcy link arms and whirl like kids and Frank fetches a glass of water and Joan takes her medication and watches the dancers, stroking Frank's hair. Steve is self-conscious and stiff, but he's also light enough that Thor can just move him until he gets the idea. It also helps that it doesn't hurt a bit whenever he steps on Thor's feet.


	93. Solstice Party VIII

After a song or two Steve is actually having fun, but he's also out of breath. He says as much to Thor, who ushers him over to a couch after Steve firmly tells him that he does not need to be carried. He doesn't, and the need to say that to anyone including himself always takes the joy out of it, anyway. He sits there and pants for a moment as Thor goes and gets his inhaler from Bruce, just in case he needs it. It doesn't really feel like he will, though, and soon he's getting enough oxygen to look over at Joan and Frank and think they're cute.

“Feeling better?” Joan asks, and Steve nods.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“So I brought this for nothing?” Thor says, tucking the inhaler into his pocket of his jeans. “Good.”

Steve chuckles, and pats the cushion next to himself. “Yes.” Thor joins him and pulls him into another enormous Thor-hug. 

“I love you too,” Steve coos, and Thor laughs, gazing into his eyes and only glancing up when Jane approaches to talk shop with Joan. Given how obviously smitten he is, this makes Steve feel special and he tells Thor so, grinning at the way it makes him blush.

“Frank is a good boy,” Joan says, still petting him. “And I like him that way. Punishing people is no fun.”

“I dunno, ma'am,” Darcy says, with a cheeky grin that makes Joan smile, “it has its moments.”

“You're not as serious as Frank, though,” she says, sliding a proprietary hand from his shoulder to his collarbones. “It's probably harder to hurt your feelings.”

“Miss...” Frank grumbles, and she pats him lovingly.

“I won't tell all your secrets, sweetheart.”

“I am so not going to say something creepy about secrets even if you look like you'd be really fun to top,” Darcy tells Frank, and he blinks at her, actually blushing slightly, which is so cute Steve can hardly stand it.

“So you're a switch, huh?”

“More like some kind of really sexy sexist? Men bring out my dom impulses,” Darcy says, shrugging.

“Goddamn, that's hot,” Steve's mouth says, independent of his brain, and Darcy laughs.

“You're damn right it is.”

The whole group talks dynamics for a while, Thor obviously fascinated by anything Jane has to say. Steve really can't blame him, and isn't surprised to be hauled off to the game room to learn how to play Shut-The-Box and listen to Thor gush.

“Look,” he says, adding a dollar to the pot, “if you want a vote in favor, you have one. I would be _delighted_ to hear about the best parts afterward.”

Thor laughs and says he'll have to talk to Natasha, and then applies himself to swilling down mead and helping Steve win fifty bucks over the next hour or so in between destroying all comers at Tafl. It doesn't seem to matter how drunk he gets or which side he plays, and he laughs when Steve asks him about it.

“Tafl is the game of kings, little one.” He pauses for another long drink of mead, and favors Steve with a loving and slightly bleary smile. “And I am technically... third in line for the throne now, but that's only if Baldr doesn't have any children, and since he's only a bit older than me and married to a really hot woman, so we're probably all right.”

“But they taught you Tafl anyway, huh?” Steve asks, slipping into Thor's lap and examining the board.

“Yes. And now I will teach you because you are tiny and precious to me.”

He's as good as his word, and Steve even wins a game before Bucky comes in and kneels next to them, resting his head on Thor's knee and giving Steve a truly pathetic look. “Steeeve?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I'm kinda drunk and getting all needy and pathetic and I miss you,” he says, so seriously that Steve bites his lip to keep from smiling as he strokes Bucky's hair.

“Well, here you are.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, smiling beatifically and catching Steve's hand to kiss it.

“Good mead often has this effect on the unishishiated,” Thor says very seriously, and Steve does laugh, so long it makes him wheeze a little.

“What did our mistress tell us about not getting too drunk?” he asks when he can speak again, and Thor just chuckles.

“It's an Aesir tradition to drink too much on the solstice,” he says. “Natasha will forgive me.”

“And you leave me out to dry,” Bucky grumbles. “Steve, I need to be touching more of you....Not in even a PG-13 way.”

Steve snorts. “Hell, we'd probably get that just for being gay.”

“Emma keeps a quiet room,” Thor says, gently pushing Steve to stand. “Let's take him there.”

“I just know I'm going to end up with you two lushes drooling on my shoulders,” Steve mutters, but takes Bucky's hand and squeezes it as Thor leads the way down to the basement. It had seemed funereal on Halloween, but now it's just cozy, with the same overstuffed furniture but prismatic decorations instead of black and orange ones, and blanket nests and a few mattresses as well. A set of speakers in one corner is playing some kind of 'nature sounds' track. It's a good one, though, just wind through leaves and intermittent birdsong. One of the mattresses is claimed, but Bucky curls up on another and reaches for Steve.

“Silly thing,” Steve says, pushing each of his little blue flats off with the opposite toe as he cuddles into Bucky's chest, letting out a little sigh of contentment when Bucky hugs him tightly. 

Thor chuckles. “I'll get you some water.”

“Thanks, love,” Steve says, glad that he doesn't have to persuade Bucky to let go.


	94. Solstice Party IX

Bruce doesn't really like dancing or parties, but Emma makes both at the very least tolerable, and sometimes even fun. And being able to talk shop with Jane Foster, Reed Richards, _and_ Victor von Doom at the same time is more than fun. Darcy is very patient with them, helped along by Valeria's similar lack of scientific fervor. They cuddle on the floor and talk about clothes and TV shows and other ephemera, making a truly beautiful picture. Tony tells them so with a friendly leer, and Darcy laughs, Valeria raising one perfect eyebrow. She kisses Darcy's cheek without breaking eye contact with Tony, and Victor chuckles.

“If you make his head explode, my pet, you have to clean it up,” Victor says, and Valeria smiles.

“Must've been why it wasn't on the lips, huh?” Darcy says, grinning. “What about your head, Bruce?” She sits up a little to look at him, and he can feel himself blush slightly.

“I think I can contain the pressure,” he says, and she laughs.

Jane smiles. “Have you girls had enough science for now?”

They sit up, stretching. “Since you ask...” Darcy says, as Valeria climbs into Victor's lap and kisses his mask.

“We should hit the game room, then,” Tony says, and Darcy leads the way, demanding that someone teach her to play Tafl. Tony steps up to the plate of course, and Bruce divides his attention between watching them and watching Valeria as she wins the shirts off of everyone's backs at Shut-The-Box.

Fascinating as the action is, Bruce ducks out to find a bathroom. There are many in the house, but there are more than enough people here to generate wait time, and he settles on a bench in a hallway next to a bright red cloak that puts its hood back to reveal a big-eyed, slightly anxious little face.

"Hi," Bruce says softly, and she smiles.

"Oh, you're Bruce, aren't you?"

"Bruce Banner, and you have me at a disadvantage."

She extends a tiny red glove. "Joan, I'm here with Frank Castle."

Bruce takes her hand, smiling. "That's why your name sounded familiar. I love your cloak."

She blushes. "Thanks. I'm Little Red Ridinghood."

"Of course. I thought I saw Frank in wolf ears somewhere..."

Joan giggles, the sound soft and nervous and really more endearing than it should be. "Yeah. He'll be back for me, I can't really walk in these boots." She stretches her feet out in front of her and Bruce whistles, impressed that being held en pointe like this isn't making her legs cramp even without having to bear the light load of the rest of her body.

"I'll bet. They're lovely, though."

"Thanks. I like your hooves."

He chuckles. "Steve made these for me. He's another of Natasha's boys."

"The artist?"

"That's the one."

"Frank mentioned him."

The door opens at last and a drunk girl weaves out, giggling. Bruce stands and offers his hand to Joan, who takes it. He supports her as she tiptoes to the door, only releasing her when Frank appears bearing fresh drinks and apologizing for getting held up. Bruce of course watches the drinks for them as Frank scoops Joan up and carries her into the bathroom. They don't take long, which is just as well, because Thor comes by a moment later bearing an enormous bottle of water and some plastic cups.

“Bruce!” he beams as if they haven't seen each other for a month instead of an hour, and Bruce has to smile back as Frank adjusts Joan to sit comfortably on his back.

“Thor. Where are you headed?”

“To the quiet room, Bucky is a little too drunk and needs water.”

Bruce chuckles. “Oh, Bucky.” He heaves himself up off the bench and takes his leave of Joan and Frank to follow Thor to his destination.

Yet another thing that lets Bruce actually enjoy Emma's parties is the quiet room. She always has a place for people like Joan and himself and Reed to flee to, should they run out of upstairs bedrooms. Steve and Bucky are curled up on one of the mattresses, Bucky completely wrapped around Steve from behind, his face tucked in against the nape of his neck. Steve opens his eyes and smiles as Thor kneels next to them, pouring the water. Steve sits up and Bucky makes a complaining noise, shifting to maintain as much contact as possible. Steve chuckles and ruffles his hair before thanking Thor and taking the cup. Bruce smiles and kneels on the foot of the mattress.

“Is this a private party, or can anybody join?”

“You're one of our VIPs,” Steve says, and Bucky makes a happy little cooing noise as Bruce snuggles up to him. Bruce presses a kiss to his back and rests there with him until Steve insists that Bucky sit up and drink three cups of water to try and ward off his hangover.

“Don' wanna,” Bucky mumbles after the second cup, and Steve has to coax him into the third and then halfway through a fourth before he lies down again. “More hugs,” he adds in the same truculent tone, and Bruce chuckles, hugging him and kissing his cheek.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Bucky admits, still sounding petulant. Steve laughs and stretches out beside him again, letting Bucky hold onto him like a teddy bear and offering Thor a hand.

“Join us?”

Thor grins and settles on the other side of Steve, his long arm reaching over them all, making Bucky make another little drunk kitten noise. It's cute and ridiculous and Bruce is probably going to get some mileage out of teasing him about it tomorrow.


	95. Solstice Party X: Coming Home And The Morning After

“Hey! Hey!”

Steve wakes up to the sound of Tony's voice and the feel of him bouncing on the mattress, and groans. “Tony, this is the quiet room.”

“Yeah, and it's like, four in the morning and we're going home.”

Steve yawns so hugely it makes the hinges of his jaw hurt. “Oh, okay.” He pushes Thor's and Bucky's arms off, making them both mumble in a disgruntled, one-tenth awake sort of way. Steve chuckles and sits up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning again. "You find anyone to beat you?"

"I got distracted by science again, but Natasha, Salma, and Jane were noising about a tea party later. It might happen there."

"I guess we'll see. Hey, Bucky. Time to go home, kiddo." He gently shakes Bucky, who yawns and tries to curl around him again until Bruce starts lightly prodding him in the ribs.

"Have we collected everyone?" Loki asks from the doorway, and Thor sits up, beaming at him and holding his arms out.

"Hugs."

Loki rolls his eyes. "Thor..."

"Hugs!" Thor insists, and Loki comes clicking over in his sky-high heels to gracefully kneel beside the mattress and hug Thor.

"You should carry me," Loki says after a moment. "I've been in these shoes too long." They're very complex and strappy, which is presumably why he's not just padding around in stocking feet with his shoes in one hand, like Pepper when she comes in to do a quick headcount for Natasha, who is apparently busy extracting Clint and Nick from the game room.

After a last pass through the house to sweep everyone out and to collect the box they brought the cheese biscuits in, all of them can load up with Happy again, wide awake from his long tenure on the night shift. Steve dozes off again in the car, and wakes up in Thor's arms, being carried into the house.

"Wha' 'bout Bucky?" he mumbles through a yawn, and Thor chuckles.

"Nick has him, he'll be fine."

Steve nods and drops off again. He has bright, fragmented dreams of fantastic beasts and their human lovers, and wakes up a little disoriented, but happy. It's almost noon, and he's ensconced in a massive people pile. Looking around, he only misses Pepper and Tony. Everyone else is here, and all are still asleep aside from Natasha and Loki where she's stroking his hair as he blinks his way to consciousness.

"Morning," Steve croaks, and Natasha smiles at him.

"Loki darling, get Steve some water."

"Your wish is my command," Loki mutters, stretching out one long arm to reach over Thor and Clint to snatch a bottle of water the flat of them beside the bed. Steve thanks him and sits up to guzzle the water as Bucky groans and mashes his face into Steve's hip. Steve rolls his eyes and pets Bucky.

"He's a complete baby when he's hungover," Steve informs them, because it's very true. Bucky can drink like a fish with no ill effects, and therefore treats his rare hangovers like a unique and personal injury dealt by an actively malevolent universe.

"If he insists, we'll treat him like one," Natasha says with a shrug, and Steve chuckles.

"Maybe that'll help."

Breakfast is a slow, diffuse affair. Natasha starts bacon in the oven and then Bruce comes wandering down to make oatmeal and Pepper starts cutting fruit to put in it. By the time Steve feels like dragging himself to his feet, there's a nice little spread waiting for him downstairs. Bucky stays where he is, gripped by the usual headache. Steve fetches him water and juice and then lets him alone. Anyone who might puke isn't allowed on Natasha's bed, but that has never been Bucky's problem. Instead he just lies there with his juice and whines and demands cuddles whenever Steve stops in to visit.

“Whiner,” Steve coos, kissing his cheek, and Bucky mumbles vaguely, clinging to him. “Finish your water and have a nap,” Steve says, and Bucky allows himself to be prodded into a sitting position. He drains the glass and Steve refills it before cuddling him back to sleep. They're alone now, everyone else in the house awake and downstairs, and the midday sunlight is golden in Bucky's hair. “Sweet boy,” Steve says softly, and kisses him again before tiptoeing out.

Downstairs he finds Natasha, Pepper, and Loki lined up on the couch, feet in tubs of warm water as Bruce, Clint, Nick, and Thor all work together to set out lotions and towels and pieces of pumice. Natasha smiles, and waves Steve over., making room for him to cuddle in between her and Pepper. “It's foot rub time for the ladies, since we were on such high heels all night.”

“Can I have one even though I wore flats?” he asks, and Natasha grins.

“Of course, dear. One of the boys was going to be left out, otherwise.”

Pepper smiles and kisses Steve's cheek, and Loki just glances over before going back to staring into space.

“Tony in the lab?” Steve asks, shivering happily and stepping on the toes of his socks to pull them off.

“Yeah,” Bruce says, setting a tub in front of Steve as Nick whisks the socks away to the nearest hamper. “After this I'll go see if he blew anything up.”

Steve chuckles and eases his feet into the hot water. “What are you two working on, anyway?”

“We're back onto robotics for now, sometimes wandering off into polymers.”

“Tony invented the material for SHIELD's Squoosh line,” Natasha adds.

“Back before I was part of things,” Bruce adds, and Natasha reaches down to tousle his hair.

“I'm so glad we have you now, lovemonster.”

He blushes a little, and nuzzles into her hand. “Glad to be here, mistress.”


	96. The One Where Loki's Feet Turn Out To Be Sensitive

If Loki hadn't made his feet _truly_ sore out of his ineradicable vanity, he would have begged off. As far as he can tell no one else here will react like he will, and that makes it even more embarrassing than it would be already. He tries to think of nothing but the pleasant temperature of the water, and the cool shade of the house as it gets hotter and hotter outside.

“Ready?”

Loki starts in his seat, and looks down at Clint. “...Yes. Sorry.” It would be Clint. At least Thor is no longer a novelty and Nick has a way of making him feel protected. Bruce would be almost as bad, but he's on his knees in front of Pepper, looking happy as the proverbial clam. Loki has never understood why clams are supposed to be happy and is wondering about it anew when Clint reaches into the water and makes his brain come screeching to a halt. Natasha's entire harem agrees that Clint has beautiful hands, but Loki hadn't realized how strong they are until just now. Clint hums to himself, smiling slightly as he flexes Loki's left ankle and then kneads his calf. He looks utterly content, and it's one of the most adorable things Loki has ever seen.

Beside him, Natasha purrs, spreading her toes and pushing into Thor's touch as he grins up at her. “Good, mistress?”

“Very good,” she says softly, and Steve sighs, relaxing back into the couch as Nick rubs his feet, big hands engulfing them. Pepper is purring to herself, the sound as soothing as Clint's humming, and Bruce is gazing up at her like he has never been anything but calm. Clint switches sides, and Loki takes a deep breath. He really does think he'll be okay. Clint's sure, firm touch is wonderful on his tight calves, but in a perfectly PG kind of way. He relaxes a bit, settling back and leaning on Natasha a little, enjoying her scent and her warmth. He'll be fine, and no one will have to know. And then Clint takes Loki's foot in his hands and slides both thumbs up the arch to the ball, hard and slow. Loki's eyes fly open and he bites his lip, strangling a moan as best he can.

“Did that hurt?” Clint asks, looking up at him with wide blue eyes and honest concern. Loki can feel himself blushing, but shakes his head. Clint studies him for a long moment, just cupping his heel, and then smiles. He strokes the sensitive arch of Loki's foot again, rubbing a slow, hard circle, friction eased by oil. He finds the spot far forward on the inward side that makes Loki jump and moan again, biting on his forefinger to stifle it this time.

“Why so shy, snowflake?” Natasha asks, voice rolling easily over the Aesir word as she slides a hand into his robe to lightly pinch one nipple. “We'd have found out sometime, you know.”

“I kn-know,” Loki gasps, shuddering as she rubs a firm circle over it with the pad of her thumb.

“And you have such pretty feet,” Clint adds, pressing a kiss to the top. Loki shivers and then lets out a barely-voiced cry as Clint takes his big toe into his mouth. He sucks gently, gazing up at Loki with eyes that sparkle with mischief.

“It was very bad of you not to let me know about this, little brother,” Thor chides, grinning from ear to ear as he continues to knead Natasha's feet. Loki wants to say something sharp in response, but all that comes out out is some strange vowel noise that goes up to a pathetically high pitch as the tip of Clint's tongue flickers between his first and second toes. Between showering earlier and the pre-soak wipe-down, there's nothing to worry about, and that's good because Loki is rapidly becoming incapable of worry. He moans into Natasha's mouth as she kisses him, and Clint reluctantly slides off and duplicates his earlier movements on the other side as Natasha sucks and bites at Loki's chest while Steve makes a muffled little noise that sounds like Pepper is kissing him.

By the time Clint gets back to sucking Loki's toes he's hard, and before long he aches. Each push of Clint's fingers and every soft, slick press of his lips and tongue radiate up Loki's legs, like there's a direct line to his cock. He lets out high-pitched little gasps as quickly as he can draw breath, the noises turning into real cries when Natasha pinches one nipple and then bites the other.

“Mistress?” Thor asks, his voice hoarse.

“Yes,”she says, “join Clint.”

“Thank you, mistress,” Thor gasps, and a second later his beard is prickling the top of Loki's free foot as he kisses it, both of his hands replacing Clint's one. Loki writhes, wanting to touch his cock but not wanting it to be over yet. Natasha pins his hands to back of the couch and the restraint makes him whine high and sharp, feeling like some important part of him is no longer in free fall.

“Green,” Loki says before she can ask, and then groans as Thor licks the sole of his foot. This entire time the others have actually been working, of course, so he's not surprised when Steve comes crawling across Natasha's lap to poise himself over Loki and kiss him hungrily.

“Nick,” Natasha says softly, “go get a rubber, get the tub out of the way, and suck Loki's cock.”

“Yes, ma'am!” Nick says, and hops to his feet and going to the little end table by the big armchair. Loki closes his eyes and pants as quietly as he can, listening to the sounds of Nick opening and closing the drawer. He's back a moment later, setting the tub aside and kneeling in its place as Steve opens Loki's robe at Natasha's command. Loki groans as Nick rolls the condom onto him. Usually he likes a drop of lube on the inside, but he's wet enough that it won't matter now. Nick chuckles and takes the head into his mouth, swallowing Loki inch by inch as Clint and Thor worship his feet and Steve kisses him, rutting against his belly and devouring his mouth.


	97. The One Where Natasha Jerks Almost Everyone Off Onto Loki

Loki's reserve seems to have finally softened, and Steve can't resist the opportunity to cover him in kisses. Something about Loki's relative aloofness makes Steve want to devour him, and now it almost feels as if he could, Loki so helpless under him. Nick groans around Loki's cock and Steve wishes he could see what Clint and Thor are doing to Loki's feet for future reference. He's thinking of pulling away enough to look back over his shoulder when Loki is suddenly quaking under him and Steve swallows the quiet, helpless groan that rolls up from Loki's chest as Nick hums and slurps just a little, finally pulling off and chuckling.

“Did I do good, ma'am?”

“Real good,” Natasha says, and Steve can hear her grinning as Loki gets it together enough to start kissing back again, still panting and trembling a little. “Boys,” she says after a moment, “I'm going to arrange you.”

Neither of them can help a little noise of complaint at being forced to stop for a moment, but soon Natasha has Loki stretched out on the couch, Bruce pinning his wrists as she gets Steve to straddle his waist again, Pepper leaning on the back of the couch to watch with bright eyes, Thor and Clint looking the same where they kneel beside the couch. Natasha waits for Nick to throw the condom away and come back before she grips Steve's cock and makes him groan and whimper as she mercilessly jerks him off, murmuring encouragement into his ear as Loki gazes up at him, looking so sweet and open that Steve isn't sure if it's that or Natasha's expert touch that makes him come, jolting and groaning long and low until he finally collapses, Natasha pushing him to end up on his side with his head resting on Loki's shoulder.

“I don't want you to spoil my artwork,” she coos, and Steve giggles weakly, nuzzling his face into Loki's dark hair and breathing in his scent. “Loki, darling, do you mind if I add to this piece?”

Loki moans, his arms tensing against Bruce's grip. “Oh... Please, mistress. Please...”

“Steve, may we move you?”

He sighs deeply, and ponders the question for a long moment. “Mm. Okay. For art.”

Natasha chuckles, and sends Thor thundering away for blankets, running feet thudding on the floor. He's back a moment later, and with all the noise he made, Steve isn't surprised to see Bucky trailing after him, looking cranky and barely awake. He's completely naked and clinging to Thor's hand, the other arm piled high with folded blankets and a couple of pillows. He lies down at as soon and Thor and Clint have arranged the bedding, and Thor scoops Steve up and sets him beside Bucky, who immediately wraps around him like some kind of lonely octopus. Steve arranges himself so he can see the action, and then relaxes and enjoys the show.

Nick ranges over Loki and shivers as Pepper takes a break from kissing Bruce and gently tugging his hair to rub Nick's scalp and the back of his neck as Natasha strokes his cock slowly, drawing a deep, rusty purr out of him that turns into a groan as she speeds up and works every drop out of him that she can get, aiming it right over Loki's heart as Nick pants harshly, eyes shut and mouth hanging open. He's beautiful in his trust and Steve wishes he could capture that expression. Pepper and Natasha help him stand on his wobbly legs and then sink down onto the floor with Steve and Bucky, curling around Bucky's back and watching with Steve as Thor gets into position over Loki.

There's always an added charge between these two, with their complicated history, and Steve sighs aloud at how beautiful they are as they stare into each other's eyes. Pepper wisely doesn't waste time on touching Thor when he's so deeply absorbed, and comes around behind Natasha to cup and knead her breasts, pinching the hard pink nipples.

“Look up,” Nick purrs into Bucky's ear, “Pepper's groping Natasha.”

“Shit, you're right,” Bucky mumbles. “Thanks.”

Pepper giggles, nibbling on Natasha's ear as Thor moans and bucks his hips, come pooling in the hollow of Loki's throat. Loki whimpers what must be a heartfelt curse in Aesir, and Thor kisses him roughly, knotting one hand in his hair and lingering for a long time. Natasha just leans back against Pepper and lets him, dangling her sticky hand for Clint to catch in both of his own and whine as he licks it clean, quivering with long-contained arousal.

At last Thor comes to join them on the floor, and Clint takes his place. Bruce looks almost sleepy, still holding Loki's hands down, but his robe is tented and he's flushed, glasses balanced on the tip of his nose until Pepper reaches over to push them up for him. Clint shakes and whines, his eyes huge, pupils dilated as he stares down at Loki, as captivated as Thor but in a different way. With each breath he sounds more lost, and it's like he physically can't look away from Loki's eyes. Steve is pretty sure he has felt this way with Natasha; breathless and overwhelmed, everything so good that it's frightening.

Loki hisses in soft, rapid Aesir. Steve can't pick anything out, but Thor seems more than a little shocked, and Clint sobs, biting his lip and then releasing it as his mouth hangs open in a soundless cry as he adds to Natasha's art, more gleaming droplets between Steve and Nick's contributions.

“Steve, dearest?” Natasha asks, in the midst of gentling Clint back to something in the same neighborhood as baseline, “Can you get us a quick sketch of this?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Steve says, “if I can get Bucky to let go long enough.”

“Don' wanna!” Bucky adds, and Natasha chuckles.

“Be a good boy, Bucky. You can hold Clint while Steve works.”

Bucky grumbles, but lets go. Steve kisses his forehead and softly thanks him before getting up and going to grab his supplies, smiling to see the way Bucky envelops Clint.


	98. The One Where Loki Starts Domming Clint

It's always fun to watch Steve draw, but Clint is pretty out of it. He's still trembling a little, and he feels like he'd cry if Bucky let him go. He's so fragile right now, so broken open that he feels like Bucky is holding everything in, keeping him from spilling across the floor. It's not a bad feeling, but it's a very intense one and Bucky's heavy warmth is helping him bear it, even when he starts kissing the back of Clint's neck, each touch like a star in his belly, tiny, bright explosions of feeling. Thor reaches over Bucky to hug them both, and Clint whines, sucking Bucky's first finger into his mouth and feeling safe.

“Such sweet boys,” Thor says softly, and Clint shivers happily, snuggling back against Bucky's chest and whimpering as Bucky crooks his finger, stroking his tongue.

“Goddamn, you're cute,” Bucky mutters. “Between you and Steve, we're totally over our cute allowance.”

Clint doesn't really think of himself as 'cute,' but Steve alone could probably meet quota, all big-eyed and charcoal-smeared as he puts the last touches on his study of Loki. Apparently Bruce's hands are part of the art, because he doesn't let go. He keeps breathing in that zen way of his, and Loki smirks up at him.

“How are you holding up, doctor?”

Even Clint can see the way Bruce tenses and shudders, closing his eyes for a moment. Bruce has been known to really get into playing doctor, and Clint moans quietly at a vision of Loki as his patient and Natasha as the supervising physician. She chuckles. “I think he's doing just fine. Aren't you, precious monster?” She strokes his hair and he leans into the touch.

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiles slightly as Natasha twirls a lock of Loki's hair around one finger and then lightly tugs, making him shiver.

“All that jizz starting to itch?” she asks, and Clint snickers.

“A bit, mistress,” Loki admits.

“Do we have our picture, Steve?” He hands it over without a word and she smiles. “We do. Good job, Steve.” Steve actually blushes a little because he's adorable like that, and scurries off to wash his hands. Clint closes his eyes again, cooing as Bucky gives him a little squeeze.

“May I have assistance with my shower, mistress?” Loki purrs, and Clint can hear Natasha's smile.

“I think so. Clint? Darling boy, are you recovered enough?”

Clint shivers, and opens his eyes. “Yes, mistress.”

“Bucky, darling?”

“Always takin' my boys,” Bucky grumbles, and Clint kisses his cheek.

“I love you,” he says softly. “You take good care of me.”

Bucky coos, and Clint slithers out of his grip. He still feels a little unsteady and raw, but he can stand and take Loki's hand as Steve snuggles up to Bucky's chest. He smiles, and gives Natasha a green light when she checks in with him and with Loki, who does the same. He feels needy and vulnerable, and clings when Loki takes his hand.

“Come along, little bird.” Clint comes along. He's still so far down, so calm and so helpless at the same time. Loki tows him upstairs and Clint feels small beside him. At the door of the master bathroom, Loki turns to him, eyes mocking and gentle. “All right?” He calls Clint something else, but it's Aesir and not one of the ones he knows.

“Y-yes, sir,” he says softly, biting his lip.

“I like that,” Loki says softly, leaning down to nibble Clint's ear, long-fingered hands gripping his ass and squeezing in a rough, possessive way that makes him moan as he melts against Loki's skin, tacky with drying come. “Good boy,” Loki says softly, and leads Clint to the shower. It's huge and has a bench seat and the usual moveable shower head, and Loki sits down. “Find us a good temperature.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint breathes, and unhooks the head, switching on the water and testing it with his free hand before approaching to spray Loki's chest. “Good, sir?” It matters way too much that it be right, and Loki's little shudder of pleasure seems to grip his heart.

“Very good,” Loki says softly, and basks in the spray like a cat in the sun for a moment before pulling Clint down onto the seat beside him, hooking the shower head to the wall above. There are several different attachment points, because this is a shower fit for the pervert queen Natasha is. Clint did some of the remodel himself, and is proud of the work. Now he sighs and presses his face to the side of Loki's chest, making a happy little noise as Loki's long arm tightens around him, pulling him even closer. “God, you're _adorable_ ,” he says, sounding stunned by this unprecedented discovery. 

Clint snickers and links his fingers with Loki's, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, sir.” He's a little closer to coming up now, just self-possessed enough to be sassy.

Loki chuckles, and starts talking to him in Aesir again, gazing into his eyes between long, slow kisses. It's really fucking weird to feel drugged by tone when he doesn't even know what the guy is saying to him, but Loki's insinuating purr makes him feel consumed, and he whimpers, shaking when Loki pulls him into his lap. Clint knows he's not a big guy, but he usually doesn't feel small. Right now he does, and wraps his arms around Loki's neck to snuggle close and feel pampered and protected as the warm water pours down their bodies. Loki murmurs in Aesir for a while longer before switching to English again.

“Kneel, little bird,” he says, and Clint slides to his knees on the floor, and kisses the top of Loki's foot when he offers it. He shivers and smirks down at Clint, passing him the soap. Clint gets to work washing Loki's already-clean feet, massaging them and pressing kisses to his ankles and calves as he works his way up.


	99. The One Where Natasha Uses Bruce To Fuck Pepper Silly

Bucky is clearly starting to feel better, because he's rock hard and grinding against Steve's ass. He's still feeling pretty wrung out, but he's happy to be ground upon and to accompany Bucky, Bruce, Pepper, and Natasha to the bedroom, even if he does yawn when Bucky picks him up. Thor has gotten hungry again, and they can hear him beginning to rattle pans and make even more coffee as they pad up the stairs, Bruce's bathrobe belt looped around his neck as a makeshift leash, Pepper holding her other hand and Bucky carrying Steve behind them. He gives Bucky little kisses on his shoulders and neck on the way, and Bucky is making that low rumble that means he's really loving something by the time they reach their destination. Bruce hangs a yellow scarf on the knob, and shuts the door behind them.

“On your back, sweet girl,” Natasha says, and Pepper pulls her house dress off over her head and hangs it over the back of the chair by the bed before stretching out on her back in the center of it. She's so wet that Steve can hear tiny sounds when she moves, and the way Bucky whines, he can probably hear it too. Bruce just swallows hard and trembles. Pepper blushes, hands resting on her chest but not trying to hide anything. “Lovely,” Natasha says. “Bucky, take that chair and keep holding Steve. I might want him later, but for now,” she says, sitting down in the other armchair and smiling, still holding Bruce's leash as he kneels at her feet. “I need to direct. Dearest monster?”

“Yes, Mama?” Bruce murmurs. Steve blinks, because Bruce only slips to the edge of being little when he's in the sub-basement of sub space. He blushes, but if anything, gets harder. Natasha's smile widens and she tugs the loop loose. “Hands under your knees, Pepper.”

Steve is always surprised by how flexible Pepper is, and now she pulls her long legs up and apart, opening herself completely. Bucky mutters a strangled, “fuck,” his arms tightening around Steve. Bruce shudders, eyes locked on Pepper as he takes off his robe, Commissioner Whale boxer shorts looking silly and obscene over his erection. Natasha chuckles, tossing the robe to Bucky, who wraps it around Steve. It's warm and soft and smells like Bruce, and Steve lets out a happy sigh.

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“You're welcome, sweetheart. Now, Bruce. I need you to fuck Pepper for me.” Pepper whimpers quietly, toes curling. “Get in fast and give it to her deep and hard. Try not to come.”

“Yes, mistress,” he breathes, and crawls onto the bed, eyes wide and bright as he settles between Pepper's legs. She shudders, flinching and crying out softly as Bruce ruts his wide tip between her open inner lips. She holds her assigned position as Bruce very carefully makes sure that her slickness is spread everywhere, biting her lip and making tiny, high-pitched noises that almost sound like terror. Steve can feel his cock trying to harden again. 

It only gets about halfway there but Bucky is leaving a wet spot on his lower back, whispering, “Mother of God,” in a way that really does sound like a prayer.. Steve can feel him throb with each beat of his heart, and when he says so Bucky keens, holding him so tightly that he has to add, “Yellow, honey, you're crushing me a bit.” It doesn't really hurt yet, but he figures it'll take a safeword to get Bucky's attention right now and that he doesn't blame him one bit.

“S-sorry, baby,” Bucky says, easing up just enough. 

Steve kisses his hand. “It's okay.”

“That's enough, gentle monster,” Natasha says, and Bruce shudders, nodding without looking away from Pepper, who's gazing up at him with huge, lust-drunk eyes

“Okay,” he whispers, “okay. Yes, Mama.” He lines up against Pepper and Steve is stunned all over again at the size of him before it all disappears like a magic trick, plunging into Pepper. She wails, letting go of her legs to cling to Bruce, knees gripping his waist as her nails dig into his back. He makes quiet, bestial rumbles and grunts of effort, slamming into her and pulling almost his entire length out each time. Pepper's cries get higher and more and more breathless until she's barely making a sound, eyes rolling back in her head as Bruce makes the headboard slam into the wall, his deep growling getting louder as the veins stand out in his arms and his skin starts to gleam with sweat. Pepper claws red tracks across his back and that just makes him fuck her harder and faster, groaning. “Please,” he gasps, “please, Pepper, hurt me!”

“Mistress?” She says, the word stuttering with Bruce's thrusts.

“Yes,” Natasha says, and Steve can see the way the tension in Pepper's arms changes as she starts really trying to draw blood. Bruce moves faster and faster as she succeeds, making wild, nameless sounds that are too harsh to be groans and too helpless to be growls. He starts to lose his rhythm, fucking Pepper like he wants to climb inside her, and she wails, eyes wide and muscles visibly clenching around Bruce in hard waves. “Okay, darling monster,” Natasha says, a little breathless, “now you can come.”

Bruce sobs and grinds into Pepper, who has gone limp beneath him and is just clinging weakly now, smearing the droplets of blood on his back. He lets out a loud, broken cry and comes so hard Steve wonders if he's actually going to explode. He rocks into Pepper for what feels like forever, and she just mewls and takes it, moaning softly when he quiets at last.

“Such a good boy,” Natasha whispers, her voice sounding tight, like she's about to cry. Steve can understand. He always gets a lump in his throat to see Bruce wrung-out and defenseless at long last. After a moment of stillness Natasha joins them on the bed, kissing Bruce and Pepper in turns and telling both of them how much she loves them.


	100. The One Where Loki And Clint Share A Shower

Loki is terrified right now, but that's not nearly a compelling enough reason to stop. Clint is an adoring puddle at his feet, and that is at least the third most beautiful sight he has ever seen in his life. And he's from Asgard, with its snowy peaks and three-hour sunsets and the like. He groans and bites his lip as Clint sucks and bites at his inner thighs, his knees over Clint's shoulders, Clint's strong hands lathering his ass and his lower back.

“So beautiful, sir,” he says softly, gazing up at him, and Loki shivers, sliding his legs off of Clint's shoulders and pulling him up.

“Come here, precious thing,” he says, and soon has a lapful of Clint again. He's so heavy for his size, but there's the same feeling as holding one of those tame doves Asgardians keep, the sense of too much energy for this compact, dainty body to hold. He clings to Loki and cuddles close in a way that seems to simultaneously beg for mercy and for protection. “God,” Loki mutters, and bites Clint hard on the shoulder because he can't help it, making him cry out and tremble. “I think we need to get dirty again before you finish your task, little bird,” he says, pleased at how steady his voice comes out when his heart is pounding like this.

“Please, sir,” Clint whimpers, groaning into Loki's mouth when he kisses him.

Loki is absolutely not ready to be part of the group's fluid bond just yet and they have no idea where he has been, but his nails are fisting-short and filed smooth, and Clint's are about the same. “Is there anything in here we can use for lube?”

Clint snickers. “There's real lube everywhere, sir. We used to use whatever came to hand, but then we had to deal with Nick Fury with butthole rash.”

Loki cackles, and it takes some of the terror out with it. Sure enough, a bottle of what he had assumed was clear shampoo on the shelf by his head is actually lube. Water-based, but there's plenty of it, and Loki smiles as he slicks up two fingers and starts working them into Clint, who clutches at his shoulders and pants.

“Ah... oh fuck, oh fuck sir...”

“How does it feel?” Loki growls, adding a third as Clint moans, his cock twitching.

“B-burns, but it's so good, please sir, please please make me open up, make me take it for you...”

Loki has never really thought of himself as a switch, but right now all he wants to do is use Clint, to break him apart and then put him back together. He starts to say so in Aesir, because it's so much easier to find the right words for what he's feeling, and Clint mewls and shakes in his arms as Loki forces three fingers as deep as they can go, holding steady as Clint rides them. He barely has to touch Clint's cock before he's groaning and coming all over Loki's thigh, hips bucking for a long time before he stops and opens dilated eyes to look into Loki's.

“Good boy,” Loki tells him in English, and shifts him to sit side-saddle on his lap. Clint is still dazed, but complies quickly, clinging to Loki all the while. Loki tells him what a good boy he's being and then pours lube onto his strong thighs and pushes his cock between them. Clint is very good about keeping them tight, and gazes into Loki's eyes like nothing in the world matters more than pleasing him. Loki tells him just how blue his eyes are at great length and in Aesir, stumbling and panting his way through the words as he fucks Clint's thighs until the friction of smooth skin over hard muscle sends him over the edge. He shudders and gasps and clings to Clint for a long moment.

“Do I please you, sir?” Clint asks softly, and Loki kisses him more roughly than he means to, words completely unable to express just how much Clint pleases him.

“Yes,” Loki hisses into Clint's mouth, the word only a brief pause in the kiss.

By this point the water has been running for entirely too long, so they roust themselves to clean up and then switch it off, stepping out on shaky legs to towel each other dry. Loki isn't really sure what to do with Clint now, but he knows how good it feels when he finally lets Thor in after a scene, and Clint is so docile and needy now that Loki actually carries him out of the bathroom, even though he's really very heavy and it's a tremendous relief to put him down on the nearest bed. This is the room Nick sleeps in when he needs rest away from all the household's activity, and it's a soothing place. The bed is already made and Loki tucks Clint into it. He really wants to find Natasha so she can tell them both what to do, but for now he holds Clint snuggled against his chest and tells him again and again that he's a good boy. 

Clint makes frantic little whimpering noises, but as Loki keeps petting and praising him, they become slower and calmer until they're sweet sounds of contentment. His face is still hidden in Loki's chest, but he sighs and his grip loosens just a little. 

“There,” Loki says, a little appalled at how shaky his own voice is, “It's okay. It's okay, darling boy. You're safe with me.”

Clint shivers happily, and kisses his neck while Loki does his best not to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, about fifty chapters past too long. In order to get Sam and Peggy in on this thing before the sun goes nova and to keep this fic even vaguely readable (the novel of tags makes me die a little inside) some porn suggestions are going to be used and questions answered in other fics in the series. So feel free to keep suggesting things and asking about times unseen, but know that they might come up in another story.
> 
> This thing is now longer than the enormous Watchmen high school AU and is mostly porn by weight. Bless every one of you beautiful perverts. <333


	101. The One Where Bucky Fucks Pepper's Ass

Bucky is trembling all over, clinging to Steve like he's the only stable point in a tilting world, and Natasha smiles, gently rolling Peper onto her belly. “Pepper, darling, may Bucky fuck your ass?”

“Yes, mistress,” Pepper whimpers, opening her legs again. Bruce makes a little mewling noise, lying in almost the same position beside her, head turned to watch her.

Bucky groans, hugging Steve tightly and giving him a devouring kiss before shifting him to the arm of the chair and going to the bed to arrange himself over Pepper. He nuzzles into her hair and sighs, lowering himself enough to feel her soft skin against his own without making her take any real portion of the weight and just breathing her in for a while. Natasha smiles, and passes him a condom.

“She should be slick enough. And you're nice and relaxed, aren't you, Pepper?”

Pepper shivers. “Yes, mistress.”

Bucky rolls the condom up and strokes Pepper's hole with the tip of his cock, eyes widening as he sinks in with no further preamble.

“See?” Natasha says, stroking Bruce's hair and looking profoundly amused.

“Y-yeah,” Bucky gasps, his eyes huge as Pepper rises onto her knees a little bit to take his full length, making a happy little hum as Bucky grinds deep into her, his mouth dropping open as his eyes flutter shut. Steve can't take his eyes off of him until Natasha speaks.

“Steve, sweetheart. I need your help patching up our darling lovemonster.”

It's a wrench, getting up to get the first aid supplies, but soon Steve is back and can watch Bucky and Pepper as he disinfects the little cuts on Bruce's back and Natasha applies band-aids and gauze pads as needed, telling Bruce what a sweet, good boy he is and how much she loves him.

Panting, Pepper turns her head and reaches to take Bruce's hand, lacing their fingers together as Bucky rocks into her, fast but with a smooth steadiness that's nothing like Bruce's rough desperation.

“You're doing such a good job,” Natasha says softly. “She likes it just like that.”

Both of them shudder and mewl at the praise, and Pepper gets her knees under her and cries out at the change of angle. Bucky groans and reaches around, his big, rough hand so gentle with Pepper's clit. She has one of those tiny, pearl-like ones and Bucky has learned just how to circle it with one wet fingertip to make her cry out as fast as she can breathe. Bruce just watches with those big, babyish eyes, and makes soft sounds of contentment as Steve and Natasha kiss and cuddle him. Steve shivers happily, and purrs when Natasha rubs his back.

“Such a good boy,” she says softly, and he sighs.

“Do you need anything, ma'am?” He was tired before this started, but the thought of Natasha with everyone too wiped out to serve her doesn't sit well.

“I'm taking my time, darling boy,” she says, still rubbing his back. “Besides, the others can help me. You just enjoy the show and then have a nice nap.”

Steve shivers and obeys, unable to take his eyes off of Pepper and Bucky. She's a helpless mess by now, too worn out to do more than let out mewling cries as Bucky ruts into her, rhythm starting to go shaky and loose as he curses breathlessly and he keeps working her clit, both of them seeming on the verge of flying apart. And then Pepper wails into the pillow and Bucky cries out and hides his face in her hair, grinding into Pepper in a helpless, automatic way as he follows her over the edge.

Everyone is pretty exhausted after that, and Steve cuddles Bucky as Bruce wraps around Pepper and Natasha watches them all with a fond smile. “My pretty babies,” she says softly, stroking everyone's hair in turn. 

Steve is nearly asleep when the door opens and he hears Tony mutter, “Shit, I missed it.” He can't help chuckling, and Natasha does too, reaching for Tony.

“You haven't missed everything, brat,” she says, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him as he crawls onto the bed, “I haven't come yet.” 

Tony lets out a desperate little whine, and soon Natasha has him kneeling on the floor, his face buried between her thighs as he moans and whimpers, mumbling in enraptured astonishment about how fucking wet she is and how much he loves it, that he wants to drown in her. Her back is to Steve, and he reminds himself to draw her this way, every graceful line of her implying the action without any of it being visible. Tony licks Natasha through what sounds like two or three orgasms before jerking off for her amusement and under her direction. Pepper watches him over Bruce's shoulder, and reaches for him after Natasha has cleaned him up and praised him for being a good boy. Tony shivers and crawls in next to Bruce, plastering himself to his bandaged back and reaching around him to hold Pepper's hand. Steve loves them all so much he can hardly bear and just hides his face in Bucky's chest for a while, shivering when Natasha cuddles in along his back.

“Comfortable, little one?” she says softly, and Steve nods.

“L-love you, mistress,” he says, feeling on the verge of tears. Natasha just hushes him and kisses the top of his head, telling him what a good boy he is. Steve sighs and dozes for a while, coming fully awake again at another creak of the door. It's Loki, looking worn out and standing with his arm around Clint, who is wrapped in a blanket and looks so big-eyed and lost that Steve sits up immediately, determined to help take care of him.


	102. The One Where Thor Takes Care Of Loki And There Is Much Snuggling

After Thor has consumed sufficient pancakes, he goes looking for Loki. Seeing the bathroom door cracked and the mirror still edged in steam, he checks the bedroom and finds him tucked into the center of a post-coital pile with Clint in his arms. Natasha is holding both of them as best she can and the others are pressed close to warm them, but Loki whimpers and reaches for Thor when he sees him.

“There you are,” Natasha says. “I was about to send Steve to fetch you. Yes, Loki, your big brother is here, you can leave Clint to me.”

“Snowflake,” Thor says softly, and scoops him up. Clint looks up and smiles to see Loki bundled into Thor's arms. “I'll take care of him,” he says to Clint, and, “Natasha will take care of Clint, dearest," to Loki.

“Okay,” Loki whispers, clinging to him. “Can... can we go somewhere else that's close?”

“Clint, is is all right if we use your room?” It's next door, and the sheets will smell like Clint. And probably Bucky, but that's just a bonus.

“Mmhm. If you move my book, keep my place, and change the sheets if you get anything on them.”

Thor chuckles, knowing that Clint is well on his way up if he can give specific instructions. “I will. You rest with mistress like the good boy you are.”

Clint coos and buries his face in Natasha's breasts, and Thor chuckles, carrying Loki out and shutting the door behind them with his foot. He repeats the performance in Clint's room, used to carrying people through the house. Loki is still trembling a little, and Thor takes him straight to the bed, tucks him in, and climbs in beside him.

“Brother...” Loki whimpers in Aesir, and hides his face in the crook of Thor's neck. After a moment he starts weeping softly, and Thor rubs his back, holding him tightly and telling him over and over that everything is all right, that he'll take care of him and that Loki is precious and beautiful and beloved. He has seen this before. Natasha rarely gets real top drop, but it still happens sometimes, and this seems to be the best treatment. Loki shakes and gasps, fighting to regain control of himself, and Thor murmurs to him and keeps rubbing his back, telling him over and over that it's all right. When Loki gets angry that he can't stop and starts to hiss and fight Thor's grip he just holds him more tightly and kisses his forehead.

“It's all right to cry, snowflake,” he says softly, in Aesir, always in Aesir, the language of the heart. Loki slaps at his shoulder but lets Thor keep holding him, slowly whimpering to a stop. Thor sits up and grabs a wad of tissues, wiping Loki's eyes and letting him blow his nose. “Better, love?” he asks in English.

“Yeah,” Loki says, tossing the tissues into the trash. “...I should go check on Clint.”

“He was fine when we left, but as you like,” Thor says, stretching his arms over his head. He waits for Loki to collect himself and to put on one of the five bathrobes hanging in the closet before getting up and following him back to the main bedroom, where Natasha is still petting Clint and talking softly to him. Steve is plastered against his back and nuzzling his neck, Bruce fast asleep between Pepper and Tony while Bucky cuddles Natasha from behind, his face buried in her hair. She looks up when the door opens, and smiles.

“There you are,” she says softly. “Steve, darling, make some room for Loki.” Steve grumbles a bit but pulls back so that Loki can slot himself between him and Clint, and Natasha smiles. “Sweet boy, thank you.” Steve coos, pressing his face into Loki's back, and Thor chuckles, settling behind Tony to add his warmth to the group, curling comfortably around that small body.

Natasha smiles at him and then looks into Loki's eyes, sliding her fingers through his hair. “You really took Clint apart. Good boy.”

Loki blushes and makes an irked noise, turning to kiss her palm. “Thank you, mistress.” he whispers, and everyone settles down into a contented group nap. Thor dozes through a few changes in membership, blinking and barely registering it as Steve gets up to work on his comic for SHIELD and Nick comes prowling up the stairs to snuggle in between Pepper and Loki, but he comes fully awake again when Tony struggles out of his grip.

“Come _on_ you fuckin' menace, some of us have actual _work_ to do—oh, hey.” He smiles, snuggling Thor as he wakes up enough to kiss Tony's cheek. “I love you, baby, but I really do need to get back to the lab.”

“I love you too,” Thor croons, kissing Tony on the mouth and then releasing him. Bruce is still out like a light, and just whines at the chill as Tony climbs out of bed. Thor closes the gap and nuzzles Bruce's hair, happy to hear and feel contented purring.

“There you go,” Tony says softly, kissing Bruce and then Pepper on the forehead before creeping out of the room. Pepper just smiles in her sleep, about as worn out as Bruce, and Thor sighs happily, hugging both of them. Loki, Clint, and Nick are asleep, and Natasha smiles at him over their heads.

“Silly boys,” she says softly, and Thor nods.

“Very silly,” he says, and Bucky chuckles, muffled in Natasha's hair.

“There's a lot of that going around.”

“Ha,” Nick mumbles, “youth is wasted on the young.”

“I dunno about that,” Bucky says, yawning. “Loki making Clint his bath-slave sounds like a great use of it.”


	103. The One Where Darcy And Jane Come Over

Steve has long known that anything he's _supposed_ to be drawing is more difficult, but he's really enjoying the comic. For one thing, he gets to draw spaceships and planets as well as gorgeous naked humanoids, so it's harder to get bored, and for another, he's having a lot of fun with his characters. The initial script was fairly generic, but Steve has been able to give these three very confused astronauts a lot of visual personality.

He's actually in the middle of one of his favorite scenes when his phone rings, and he considers letting it go to voice mail in the face of dominant alien girl on confused, submissive straight boy pegging, but in the end good manners win out and he answers it.

“Hey, Steve!” Darcy chirps. “What's up?”

“Well,” he says, “I was working on a comic for SHIELD, but other than that, not a whole lot.” It's another hot, lazy day and almost everyone is out or working, except for Thor, building a Saint Andrew's cross for Tony in his wood shop, and Nick, taking his third nap of the day in the back.

“Cool. You remember how I asked you to draw us at the solstice party?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Are we still on for that?”

Steve shrugs. “I don't see why not. I have sketches and photos of the costumes, so I just need the two of you to confirm the pose and to tell me how fantastical you want it.”

“Well, I'd like to really have a tail and claws, maybe. About that fantastical.”

“Sounds fun to me,” Steve says.

“Now, are you like, trying to get rid of me to get back to work, or could we swing by after we eat to look at the sketch and refresh your memory of our hotness?”

It seems a little cruel to have Jane over when Thor might come stumbling out of the workshop unprepared for her, but Steve is a bit bored and would like the company, and no one can argue with him taking a simple commission like this. He gets a few more pages roughed out and then sets the comic aside to answer his phone again and to assure Darcy that she has the right street. A few minutes later the doorbell rings and he lets them in. Darcy grins and hugs him looking around curiously. 

“Man, this place is nice!”

Steve blushes. “Thanks.”

Jane smiles at him, also a little pink. “It's good to see you again,” she says as Darcy slips out of her sandals and prances into the living room, exclaiming at the size of the TV and the wicked awesomeness of the couch.

“Lemonade?” Steve asks, and he can't help a little thrill at the queenly nod Jane gives him. Everything about her makes him want to serve and defend her, and he takes his time to pour three perfect and beautiful glasses and to bring out some cheese biscuits as well, bringing it all out to the coffee table. Darcy is sprawled on the couch declaring her intention to live on it for ever and ever, and Jane is sitting upright beside her, laughing shyly. Steve sits on a massive cushion across the table from them, and can't stop himself from beaming as Jane tastes her lemonade and declares it the best she has ever had.

“Thank you, ma'am,” he says softly, and it makes both of them blush while Darcy just laughs.

“Man, I hope I get to play with you guys,” she says. “You're just _adorable._ ”

“Darcy,” Jane says as Steve's face goes from warm to scalding, “behave.”

“Yes, your highness,” she coos, and sits up straight, taking a biscuit and making appreciative noises as she eats it that make Steve squirm slightly. Jane asks after the rest of Natasha's harem, and confirms that she got Natasha's text about a tea party.

“Some of us are going to be human furniture,” Steve tells her, blush returning full force, “but we still need to reach Salma about the dress code.”

“Oh,” Darcy says, “is she the adorable hijabi who was at the solstice party?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, sipping his lemonade and pressing the cool glass to his cheek. “Natasha's first thought was nudity, but we have to assume that genitals everywhere would make her uncomfortable even if she is willing to go to clubs.”

“See, I love man-junk everywhere,” Darcy says, “but I can see how it could be a bit much for some people.”

Jane just laughs, as flushed as Steve.

Eventually they regain their equilibrium and talk about Jane and Darcy's trip and the heat and just how large and how nice the paper on their finished commission is going to be. Once the drinks and nibbles are finished and Steve has carried the dishes back to the kitchen and wiped up the condensation, he brings out the original sketch from the party. They help him refine the pose, and he takes a few facial studies of each of them. It's nice to have this license to stare, to really commit their unique beauties to memory. He also starts working out how to integrate Darcy's dragon parts with her human ones, and brings out his markers so they can pick appropriate shades of pink and green.

Sure enough, Thor comes wandering in after about an hour, all sweaty and smelling like wood shavings with his hair in that cute little ponytail. It's almost like he planned it, but the wide open, guileless puppy-dog look he gives Jane is more than enough to prove otherwise. Her smile at the sight of him makes Steve feel warm all over.


	104. The One Where Natasha Decides To Loan Thor To Jane (And Then Rides Him Senseless)

It really is cute to see one of her boys with such a crush. Natasha walks in after a shoot and smiles down at her sweet Thor, where he's kneeling to greet her. She can see Jane and Darcy past him in the living room, and after she has told Thor that he's a good boy, waves to them. Steve in full drawing frenzy and only looks up long enough to give her smile to acknowledge her presence, but as always when he is alone (or essentially so) with multiple ladies, Thor dotes upon their every need. He's such a puppy at heart, and Natasha beams, going to sit beside Jane and letting Thor fetch her some lemonade of her own. She lets him know that it's perfect, because it is, and he kneels at her feet, sighing inaudibly and resting his head on her knee. She tugs his hair tie out and runs her fingers through his golden mane as she answers Darcy's questions about work and coaxes Jane into explaining some of her own project. 

Science isn't really Natasha's area, but Jane is clear enough, especially after years of living with the Stark-Banner team. Even warming to her subject, Jane can't keep her eyes off of Thor, who is almost dozing now, just a massive, sleepy animal leaning his lovely, living weight against her. She gently scratches the nape of his neck, just at the hairline, and he shivers happily. Jane goes pink and beyond her Darcy flashes one of the most sweetly evil smiles Natasha has ever seen. Jane is so busy watching Thor that Natasha actually winks.

“Thor really does have remarkably pretty hair.” She slides her hand free and just pats Thor's cheek with the pads of her fingers, making him open his eyes and gaze up at her adoringly. She smiles back. “Such a sweet boy,” she says softly, and then, “I was just telling Jane how nice your hair feels, go and let her pet you.”

“Yes, mistress,” Thor says, kissing her hand and crawling the short distance to kneel by Jane, who is now bright red but does not hesitate to reach out and slide a lock of Thor's hair between her fingers. Steve glances up and turns the page in his sketchbook, pencil flying as he studies Thor and Jane.

“God, you are so cute,” Darcy says to Thor, and looks over at Natasha, raising an eyebrow.

Natasha can feel her mouth curling into a little smirk. “He loves attention more than some cats I've met.”

“So I see,” Jane says, still flushed but calmer now, running her fingers through Thor's hair as he leans into the touch.

Natasha is not surprised at all to get a text from Darcy five minutes after they leave: _so im asking if we can borrow thor cause u kno jane is too shy_

Natasha laughs, texting back that they may borrow Thor, but that she wants to discuss it him and with Jane, perhaps at the tea party. She has Thor help her undress because he loves that kind of service and she hardly ever remembers to ask for it. “Thor, love,” she says as he pulls her top off over her head, “you do want me to loan you to Jane, right?” She would phrase it more delicately with more fragile members of her harem, but Thor has never been afraid to say no.

“Very much, mistress,” he says, and whimpers when she kisses him before letting him remove her bra and panties, her jeans already folded over the back of a chair.

“Wonderful,” she says, standing on tiptoe to nibble his ear. He whines piteously, and she grins, getting him out of his clothes in return and taking him to bed, leaving the door cracked because finding a green scarf is too much trouble. There's a collar that fits him in one of the bedside drawers, and he squirms and moans as she puts it on, blue eyes huge. 

“Such a good boy,” Natasha coos, and kisses his forehead, clipping a leash onto it and wrapping most of the length around her fist as she straddles him. Thor groans and very prettily asks permission to touch, grabbing her hips the moment he receives it. Natasha shudders and grinds along him, already wet from watching him be so good for Jane. She tells him so and he makes a low, wounded sound, thrusting up and just barely pressing his tip into her before she slides off to make another few passes, making him even slicker and more desperate before she finally takes his cock in her free hand and slides down onto it. Wet and open as she is even something the size of Thor's cock goes easily, and he whines, staring through her at the ceiling in that stunned, glazed over way she loves so much.

“Such a good boy,” she says again, and Thor moans, hands roaming over her body, gripping and kneading and pinching before she leans down and pushes one nipple into his mouth, pulling his hair and making him cry out, muffled and helpless. Natasha keeps her grip as she rides Thor through her own silent, shuddering orgasm and as she tells him to come for her, to gift his pleasure to his mistress. He gasps, twitches inside her, and then wails, spurting inside her so many times that it must be painful for him by the end, and she shudders and clenches on him, holding him inside as she praises him and covers him with kisses.

“I'm glad I caught the end of the show,” Nick says from the doorway, and Natasha chuckles, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Oh, I don't know if it _has_ to be the end, papa bear. Come here.”


	105. The One Where Steve And Nick DP Natasha

Finally satisfied with how he's going to fade from scales to human skin on dragon-girl Darcy, Steve hears Thor crying out, ragged and helpless, and gets hard so fast that it makes him a little dizzy. He takes the time to properly put away his art supplies before going to the main bedroom. It's quieter now, but far from silent as Natasha moans softly, braced on all fours as Nick rocks into her. He's panting harshly, skin shining with sweat as Thor lies there beside them, wearing a collar and looking dazed and happy.

Steve grins and doesn't actually make any noise, but Nick looks over his shoulder anyway, his good eye bright and his patch slightly askew and smiles back before returning all of his attention to plowing Natasha, who groans deep in her chest and waves an imperious hand, gesturing Steve to come and join them. He obeys, coming close enough to the head of the bed for her to see him, and then pulls off his clothes. It's a hot enough day that he doesn't hesitate, and Natasha smiles at him, eyes falling shut as Nick speeds up a little. Steve crawls over the pillow and snuggles between her and Thor, who rumbles happily and hugs him back against his chest, nuzzling his hair.

“Fuck, _Tasha_...” Nick whimpers, hiding his face in Natasha's hair and grinding even deeper into her, both hands squeezing her breasts and making her groan.

“You're so beautiful,” Steve says, meaning all three of them. Natasha at least seems to understand, and pushes herself off of her elbows and up onto her hands.

“C'mere,” she gasps, and Steve whines as Thor helps him arrange himself under Natasha and grab a condom. He hasn't been able to see until now, but Nick is buried in her ass, her cunt open and dripping. She slides onto Steve in one consuming movement and he yells something very heartfelt and also definitely not a word. Natasha can always grip hard, but now she's almost unbearably tight, Nick's thick cock taking up what feels like almost all the available space. Each thrust strokes and squeezes Steve, and Natasha feels so hot and tight and fragile around him, straining envelop them both. At first he can't even think to move and then he doesn't dare and then Natasha is ordering him to fuck her, breathless and imperious. 

Steve starts to move and she screams, grinding down and back onto them so they'll know that it was a good scream. Thor just watches them with wide eyes, starting to touch himself when Nick is shaking and moaning that he's going to come, that there's no way to hold back longer. Natasha says that she wants to feel it and Steve embarrasses himself by going first, bucking and moaning under her for a long time, only spurred on by Nick and Thor's helpless groaning. Nick reaches around to rub Natasha's clit as they soften inside her, and she screams again.

Once all of them have caught their breath and Steve's heart has stopped beating so hard that it hurts a little and worries him a lot, Natasha cuddles all three of them, petting and praising them and Steve wonders when this became so indispensable for him. He loves being good for Natasha, and he loves her and he gets a little too emotional and cries for a while, which is always embarrassing. Natasha just holds him, though, and Thor and Nick kiss him and murmur about how they understand, that it's okay and that they love him and will protect him. Steve had been a little worried about an asthma attack right before he came, and now feels utterly exhausted, falling asleep squished between Natasha and Thor.

He wakes up still pressed to Natasha's side, but she's sitting up and talking on the phone now, still naked and petting Steve's hair, and the warm bulk wrapped around him from behind is now Bucky instead of Thor. Steve makes a quiet, happy noise, and just lies where he is, only moving to kiss Natasha's hand and then Bucky's.

She smiles down at both of them, still talking. “Right now I'm thinking boxer-briefs, but of course we'll all defer to your feelings on the matter....Yes, boxer-briefs cover the whole ass. ...I could make them wear suits and ties, you know. Just give me an excuse to torture Clint.” She pauses for a while, and then laughs. “If you say so. Next weekend is still good for you, right?”

Steve smiles, and drifts off again into an odd dream of being a tree with fairies and birds perched on all his branches. He blurrily tries to explain it to Bucky as he brings Steve water and his medication, and Bucky smiles.

“Well, you are a fairy, ain'tcha, Rogers?”

Steve swallows his pills and sticks his tongue out at Bucky. “I was a _tree_ with fairies _on_ me, Barnes.”

Bucky leans in, nibbling at Steve's tongue and making him giggle. “So a fairy tree, then. Like a Christmas tree but for fairies.”

“You're a dick, Bucky.”

“Which has its uses,” Natasha says from the doorway, wrapped in a light robe and looking amused. “At least now I know what to dress you as on Halloween.”

“Bucky too?” Steve asks.

“Bucky especially. Bucky, be a good boy and fetch Steve's sketchbook. Unless you don't want me to admire your projects,” she adds to Steve, and he shakes his head.

“Please. I'd like to look at them again, and you can tell me what you think of my aliens and if Jane and Darcy are recognizable.”

Bucky goes off again and Natasha cuddles in next to Steve. When he shows her his work he's reminded of being a really, really little kid, way before Ma died when she would exclaim over all his scribbles and tell him how wonderful they were. Bucky arranges himself on the other side and offers helpful comments about how deeply fuckable the aliens are.


	106. Femdom Tea Party I

On the day of the tea party, Jane is horribly nervous. She actually feels a little nauseated, and has to sit and do breathing exercises while Darcy tries on five different outfits, turning and examining every angle in the enormous hotel mirror. Finally she comes over to kneel at Jane's feet, resting her head on her knee and looking up at her.

“Mistress?”

Jane smiles, stroking Darcy's hair. “I'll be okay. Just nervous.”

“Don't be nervous, look down my dress.”

Jane laughs, and takes Darcy's advice. The view is lovely as always, and Jane tries not to swallow her tongue at how braless Darcy is. She says it doesn't hurt but that she does get sweaty, so it's a treat for Jane when she goes without, but not as rare a delight as it could be. The dress is a good one for it, such a pale pink that with Darcy's pearly skin it's almost a nude, the material thin and clinging at the top with a light, fluttery skirt. With buckled black boots and a heavy studded belt, it's perfect on Darcy.

“You are very beautiful, pet,” Jane says. They still haven't really decided what to call Darcy, but if Jane is Mistress or Your Highness, Darcy wants some definite address and they're trying them out by turns. Jane isn't sure this one is right, but it's working for now. “I never worry about you captivating anyone you want to.”

“You shouldn't worry about yourself, mistress,” Darcy says, her voice a little husky. Jane shivers, and pulls her up and into a slow, rough kiss, pulling her hair and making her shake and whimper. Discomposing Darcy always helps Jane pull herself together, and after reducing Darcy to flushed and wide-eyed mess, she takes off her robe and starts putting on what Darcy calls her Power Lace. It's a full set, a bra that makes the most of what Jane has, thigh-high stockings, a garter belt, panties, and an entirely decorative underbust corset; all made of the same complex, floral, champagne-colored French lace, backed with incredibly soft and sheer fabric. It's a delicate confection, and Darcy loves the ritual of helping her into it. She does it now with reverent hands, and Jane turns and kisses her when all of it is in place.

“Thank you, pet,” she says softly, and kisses her cheek before going to the closet and pulling out her only item of clothing that meets the 'wear a pretty dress' dress code. It's at least not black, which has never been a tea party color for anyone under fifty. It's a simple sleeveless sheath in a dark honey color that Darcy says does amazing things for her eyes, and it glides smoothly over the Power Lace.

“So beautiful, mistress,” Darcy says, her eyes shining. She sits Jane down and puts her hair up in some chic, careless-looking way that Jane doesn't know how to do. This with the addition of the amber pendant and matching drop earrings that Darcy gave her for Christmas makes her start to actually feel beautiful, and by the time she's stepping into her little brown peeptoe heels, all the queasy nervousness has turned into the fun kind.

They walk out hand-in-hand, and Jane can see the cabdriver watching them in the rearview at every red light. Darcy leans over and whispers to Jane that they should fuck with his head some more and start making out, but she refrains, just holding Darcy's hand in comfortable silence. She doesn't tip him as much as she would have otherwise, and they walk up to the door, Jane's mood tipping back toward the queasy type of excitement. She doesn't have time to fret too much, because Tony answers the door in nothing but red underwear and a smile.

“Hey,” he says, stepping aside to let them in. “Glad you could make it, and of course you both look amazing.”

“So do you, damn,” Darcy says, blatantly ogling him as he shuts the door behind them. The coffee table has been moved off somewhere so that Thor can take its place, kneeling on a flat cushion and grinning at them as they come in. The others are similarly posed around him, except for Bruce, Nick, and Hank, who are actively serving as chairs for Salma, Natasha, and Emma, respectively. The beautiful girl who had been working the door of the solstice party is kneeling beside Emma, resting her head on one white-clad knee.

Natasha smiles and waves them over. “Please, sit down, the tea is nearly steeped.” She smiles at Salma. “And yes, the coffee is ready, too.”

Clint and Bucky have arranged themselves on hands and knees, and Jane settles onto Bucky, because he's the closer to Thor's head. Bucky is warm and hard beneath her in a way that makes her think of horseback riding. She strokes his hair as Darcy settles onto Clint, giving his ass an affectionate pat because she is incorrigible.

“Let me know if I get too heavy, yeah?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Clint says, chuckling a little and letting his head hang, shoulders easy under Darcy's weight.

A moment later Pepper, Loki, Tony, and Steve come out of the kitchen, everyone but Tony in pretty dresses of their own. Tony has the coffee and tea and all their additives, Steve is carrying a tray of sandwiches, Loki has the necessary flatware, and Pepper completes the procession with a pile of snow white napkins with real, ironed creases, like Jane's mother still does for special occasions. Steve and Tony put their trays on Thor's back, and Loki follows Pepper, distributing plates after she gives each of them a napkin. Angel is included as well, and once his task is done, Loki kneels beside Nick while Tony settles himself next to Bucky and Steve sets his plate on him before serving up the little sandwiches, looking as dainty and pretty as he did in his nymph costume.

“All the furniture has had its tea already,” Natasha says as Pepper carefully pours the tea and the coffee, “and its share of the sandwiches.”

“That's good to know,” Jane says, and Thor turns his head just enough to smile at her.


	107. Femdom Tea Party II

Now that everyone has everything, Steve can relax. It has gotten hot enough outside that iced tea might have been a better idea, but Tony's warmth isn't too much, and his tea is perfectly sweet and milky. Loki had been offered a job wielding a fan for the ladies, but with all their guests able to come, he had opted to be Pepper's seat. “This time,” he had said, and Steve already hopes that tea parties like this can be come a Thing.

While Salma stays, things are kind of weirdly normal. They sip tea and nibble sandwiches and talk about Natasha and Steve's current SHIELD projects and how great the solstice party was and the things people talk about at ordinary tea parties where the furniture isn't gorgeous men. The real difference is that everyone pets her chair once in a while, and occasionally feeds him a tidbit. Bruce looks very content under Salma, easily accepting a cucumber slice from her fingers.

“They really are so sweet,” she says softly, looking around as she sips her coffee.

Darcy grins. “Totally. Steve, can I get another sugar?”

“Of course, ma'am,” he says softly, and gets up, taking the sugar bowl off of Thor's back and using the actual silver tongs to select one lump and convey it to Darcy's cup.

“Thank you, dear,” she says, still smiling at him. Steve can feel himself going pink as he returns everything to Thor, who really does make an excellent table. Jane has been quietly fondling his hair pretty much this entire time, and he looks like he's absolutely loving it. Steve sits back down on Tony and pets him, because he has been very good so far. Furniture isn't really supposed to talk, but the ladies have agreed to let a little bit slide. Tony wriggles just a little, happy at the touch. Steve still isn't completely sure what to make of Tony. He flips so quickly from total pain in the ass to sweet as pie and back again.

“You all right on the wobbly chair?” Natasha asks, and Steve grins.

“Yeah,” he says, stroking Tony's hair some more.

“I'm not wobbly,” Tony says, “I have _character_.” Everyone laughs at that, even Hank, so quiet and so determined to be good. “That's better,” Tony says quietly, winking at him. Steve gives him an affectionate squeeze on the back of the neck and a sip of tea. He sighs a little, sweet and barely audible, and Emma tells the others about the Halloween party where she met Steve and how precious he was.

“And then of course I accidentally drugged the poor boy,” she says, laughing at the appalled looks on Salma, Jane, and Darcy's faces. “I said accidentally!”

“I never could hold my liquor,” Steve adds, “but with my current medications it's like a brick to the head.”

“Where I'm well-preserved due to alcohol,” Emma says. “The poor boy thought my ultra-strength gin and tonic was his Sprite for a crucial moment.”

“It worked out for us,” Clint says softly, smiling over his shoulder at Darcy as she gently scratches his scalp as if he's a cat or something.

“We scared poor Bucky half to death, though,” Steve says, and is glad when Jane pats Bucky's shoulder. He shifts comfortably with Jane, looking like he could hold her forever.

“Looks like you got better,” Jane says softly, and Bucky actually blushes a little. It's adorable.

“He's pretty hard to improve on,” Steve says softly, and Bucky smiles at him. So does Natasha, who has him pour another round while Pepper adds sugar, milk, and/or lemon as required. Salma takes her coffee black and nearly as sweet as Thor does, while Jane drinks plain tea with lemon and Darcy takes hers about as sweet and milky as Steve does. There's something so pleasing about knowing that, and he feels himself blushing a little as he at last sets the teapot down and goes back to Tony.

Steve's flush only deepens when Natasha asks him to go get Darcy's commission so far. It's not even inked yet, but the penciling is complete enough that he's not _too_ embarrassed to bring it out. He goes to fetch it and brings it to Natasha first, since she's his own mistress, and she smiles, holding it with one hand and giving Nick a light scalp rub with the other that makes him purr in the back of his throat.

“This is beautiful work, Steve,” she says, and shows it to the others as Steve tries not to squirm out of his skin. There's something off in the penciling and he's still not sure what. It's Salma who points out that he needs to just alter the bridge of Darcy's nose a tiny bit, and soon he forgets all about embarrassment in his quest to do just that, studying Darcy as he carefully, carefully adjusts it.

“You're right, Salma,” he says, after a while. “I think that's better.”

“I'm always right,” she says, and then laughs.

“I thought it looked like me in the first place,” Darcy says, “so it's probably great now.”

Steve keeps working on the picture as Salma quietly excuses herself to pray in one of the back rooms, giving Bruce the opportunity to sit up and roll his shoulders.

“All right, sweet monster?” Natasha coos, and Bruce smiles.

“Yes, ma'am.” Bruce's back bothers him sometimes, but Salma probably barely weights any more than Steve does, and Bruce looks very comfortable as he settles into place when she returns, patting his head and picking up her coffee again.

“Hey, Salma?” Darcy asks.

“Yes?”

“Not trying to be a dick, but how do you figure which way Mecca is?”

She laughs. “From here I just turn east, but I do carry a compass when I travel.”


	108. Femdom Tea Party III

Emma takes a long sip of her milky tea and asks Natasha what other tricks the boys have, trailing her nails along the back of Hank's neck in a lazy, possessive way that makes him tremble. “I know they're very obedient,” she says, “but this is the first time I've really seen you do anything formal with them.”

Natasha chuckles, lightly rubbing Nick's scalp the way he likes so much, making him let out a little purring noise. “Well, so many of them are self-conscious. And Bruce does most of his real worshiping when he's little.”

“Oh, how precious,” Emma says, smiling softly at Bruce and making him blush. Natasha is glad to see Salma give him a comforting pat on the head.

“It is, but it's also very private,” she says. “And Steve is just very democratic by nature as well as being shy and a bit of a switch.”

“Dude, are you like me?” Darcy asks, grinning as Steve blushes. Loki chuckles, shifting a little under her. He's bearing the weight well, but soon it'll be time to give the chairs a break.

“A little,” Natasha tells her, reaching over to stroke Steve's hair and smiling at the shy, sweet way he leans into her hand. “He'll go under for men, but he's usually over Bucky, who would be his primary if we were organized that way.”

“Really?” Darcy asks, looking over at Bucky.

He grins, glancing up at her. “Totally. I didn't even really know I was bi until this year.”

“Get out!” she says, lightly slapping his shoulder. “How in the hell could you not notice? I've seen the way you look at dudes.”

Bucky shrugs as best he can. “I dunno, ma'am. I guess girls are so hot it's like trying to see the moon when the sun is up.” He chuckles and looks over at Steve. “And then you see the moon by day and remember how lovely it really is.”

Steve blushes and Tony chuckles. “That's class, Barnes.”

“Even if you are unpolished,” Emma says, “I think that you grasp the essentials of properly worshiping a lady.”

Salma perks up at this, and Natasha grins at her. “Do you have some views you'd like to expound upon?”

“I do!” she chirps, and Emma laughs. It's the friendly one, though, not either of the icy ones, so Natasha smiles at her.

The boys need a break from being chairs anyway, and a clinic on proper lady-worship is perfect. Emma and Natasha have some truly debauched ideas on how devotion is best expressed, but with Salma here they're limited to the little gestures. Emma leashes Hank and has him demonstrate the most elegant way to walk on all fours. Loki is the only one of Natasha's boys who can match him, and Natasha grants him a kiss from Hank as a prize. It's almost not fair, the way Loki insinuates himself into the poor kid's mouth. He blushes and shakes and asks to be excused for a moment. Emma gives him a fond and amused look, and says that he may. He stands and skitters out while Loki kneels on the floor and watches him out of the room, smirking.

“You are a wicked boy,” Emma tells him.

“Yes, ma'am,” he says, and Tony snickers.

“I think you should apologize for flustering my pet.”

“Then I should, ma'am,” Loki says, eyes shining as he looks up at her, all calculated guilelessness.

Emma makes an amused noise in her throat, and puts one foot forward. She's wearing a pair of perfect and pristine white heels, of course. They're light and strappy in deference to the temperature, but they have a toe cap. Loki bows his head over the one offered to him, covering it in soft and reverent kisses. He keeps his hands behind his back, perfectly balanced and utterly focused, his cheekiness melting away as he works.

“How beautiful,” Thor says softly, and Emma chuckles.

“Yes, it is. Good boy. Other side, now.” Loki switches over. “See his focus?” Emma asks the boys. They offer a quiet murmur of assent, and before long, the whole class is assembled. Since it's a caress to neutral skin that's covered anyway, Salma is glad to help Hank practice his shoe worship when he comes back. Steve stands beside her, blushing as Bucky cheats a little, working his way up and over to nuzzle his bony little ankles.

After Natasha has decided that she's had enough of Nick at her feet (for now) and of Thor gazing up at Jane like a goddess's joyful supplicant (for now,) she tells the boys to sit up, and they move on to different styles of kneeling. Nick has a few modifications to most forms because he's an old man with aching knees, and they're very nice. Everyone agrees and Natasha hopes it's not entirely because of the fierce love she's radiating in every line of her body. She just can't help it, sometimes.

Everyone gets to stretch his legs after that, which of course leads straight into pacing practice, and keeping a certain number of steps ahead or behind or ahead. Natasha also shows Jane and Salma the hand signals she uses to tell her boys to change position, change number of steps, or to stop or start keeping track of it. It seems to bring out the puppy in Bucky, and that's just fine with her. He's adorable as he watches her hands, only turning to Steve when she orders him to, reasonably sure that Steve has retained at least a few of them. Both of them are fast learners, and all of her boys enjoy the practice.

When everyone sits down again to nibble on the crisp little sugar cookies Steve made last night, Hank also has some modified Gorean poses to show off. Of course Tony takes to them. Natasha takes note of this for later, as well as the rapt way Bruce watches his attempts.


	109. Femdom Tea Party IV

Steve feels a bit ridiculous with how pleased he is to see the ladies enjoying his cookies, and is glad to hop up and click to the kitchen on his little white kitten heels to fetch some more, Tony at his heels and on his own mission to refill the teapot. Pepper had offered to do it, but Tony needs a break from being furniture, anyway. Steve is honestly surprised at how still and good he has actually managed to be, and is about to say so when he catches sight of his reflection in the front of the microwave. He really does look girlish, even without the elaborate wig he used for Baby Day. He also looks like a happy housewife, and that's the part that makes him blush.

“God, you're so fucking cute,” Tony says, cuddling him from behind as he waits for the water to boil, the infuser already loaded. He nuzzles Steve's hair, giving him an affectionate squeeze around the waist with the perfectly-gauged force that not even Bucky can manage all the time. “Thanks for joining the commune.”

Steve laughs. “Glad to be here,” he says, turning in Tony's arms and looping his arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. He loves that Clint and Tony are short enough to allow him to do this, and he makes the most of it now, humming contentedly and taking his time with Tony. Forcing him to go slow frustrates him but makes everything better. He's well aware of the second fact, just whining a little when Steve pulls away but not following him. “I love you,” Steve says, “and the water is boiling and we have company.”

“Cold-hearted little bastard,” Tony coos, in tones of deepest affection. He gives Steve a bristly kiss on the nose and then starts the tea steeping as Steve finishes loading the platter with cookies.

They return to find Emma rolling her eyes at whatever the person on the other end of her phone says, her free hand petting Hank. “Honestly, Az,” she says, “what the hell would you do without me? You're lucky you're cute.” She hangs up and sighs. “I have to go fix Azazel's mistakes again.”

Steve sets the platter down on Thor and Tony takes his former position again even as he says, “Well, that's too bad, ma'am.” Steve agrees, settling on him as Natasha asks if Emma has time for one more cup of tea and having Pepper pour it for her when she answers in the affirmative. Angel takes another as well, and says, “Bad as the timing is, it's only fair, mistress. Az fixes your mistakes.”

Emma chuckles, stroking her hair. “I wouldn't keep him around if he didn't,” she admits, twirling a lock of Angel's hair around one finger.

Natasha chuckles. “Azazel has been a full partner in the firm since I've known Emma,” she says, feeding Nick a cookie, “but he'll always be a new clerk in her heart.”

“I can't help it,” Emma says, still petting her entourage in turns, shifting her cup from hand to hand as necessary, “it's my kind and motherly nature.”

Under her Hank snickers, breaking furniture rules for the first time and making her gently tweak his ear, beaming at him. “Such a darling boy, even when you're not correct,” she coos, and he blushes, looking delighted and so sweet and so subby that Steve kind of wants to put a leash on him, and has to fight not to blush, himself.

Salma sighs, offering Bruce a cookie which he gratefully takes. “If you're going...” she says, looking almost guilty to be leaving early.

“Summer classes?” Natasha asks, and Salma nods.

“I have a pile of homework,” she says. “It's one of those condensed classes, a semester's worth in six weeks.”

“I remember that kind of thing,” Emma says, still playing with Angel's hair. “And yes, we'll be glad to give you a ride. Up you get, girl,” she tells Angel. “Go find Hank's shirt.” She does, and Emma and Salma take their leave of everyone. Emma instructs Jane and Darcy to have a lovely time without them, and Salma thanks Bruce for being such a comfortable chair, running her fingers through his curls. They're getting fairly long, since Tony makes a sad face every time Bruce brings up getting a haircut. It makes a nice frame for his face as he nuzzles into her tiny hand with a quietly blissful look that reminds Steve of the way he gets when he's little.

“You're welcome, ma'am,” he says softly, and she smiles, pushing his glasses up for him because he hasn't broken position. Steve is busy watching them, and is a little startled when Emma appears beside him.

“Thanks again for the cookies and for being such a good girl,” she says, and Steve can feel himself blushing scarlet.

“You're welcome, ma'am,” he says, shivering when she ruffles his hair and says that he's adorable.

Once Hank is dressed and has said his own farewells, Bucky very formally escorts them all to the door. He bows deeply as they leave, and raises his head to wink at Salma when she glances back, making her laugh.

Now that the party is smaller, Natasha calls for another break for all the furniture except for Thor, the ladies sitting on the real couch while everyone else sprawls on cushions on the floor while Pepper fetches cups and saucers. Once everyone is served she settles onto the couch again and Tony sighs, resting his head on her knee.

“Does anyone mind if I start working on Darcy's commission again?” Steve asks, and Natasha laughs.

“Go ahead,” she says, “and change out of your dress if you want to.”

He makes a neat curtsey, and leaves the room while Bucky and Clint are still laughing.


	110. Femdom Tea Party V

The thing about Jane is that she kind of needs someone to be slutty for her. She's looking at Thor like she wants to eat him with a spoon and at Loki in a more nervous version of the same way, and Darcy would bet good money that if she wasn't here poor Jane would have to go home empty-handed with all this top-quality cock around. Right now she has to help Steve pick colors for the dragon and princess picture, but she keeps her mission in mind.

“Stay for dinner?” Natasha asks Jane, and Darcy gives her mistress her very best puppy-dog eyes, leaning her head on Jane's shoulder.

Jane laughs, petting Darcy. “All right, pet, we'll stay. Thanks, Natasha.”

“Any time,” she coos, and winks at Darcy while Jane is approving a shade of pink for her gown. Apparently Steve is kind of nervous about learning to color properly, and it's the only reason he's getting down to deadline on his work for SHIELD, the first three issues of the comic otherwise done. He also wants to recheck the pose, and Darcy is happy to kneel at Jane's feet, one hand loosely wrapped around her ankle. She can feel everyone watching them, but especially Thor.

“Mistress?” She murmurs, once they're back on the couch.

“Yes?”

“Permission to ask Natasha's permission to touch one of her boys?”

Jane blushes and covers her face, which of course draws all eyes. “Oh god, Darcy. Fine. Go ahead.”

Darcy grins, and turns to Natasha. “Ma'am, may I pretty please touch one of your boys?”

“I'm very glad to grant it, provided the one you pick is happy about it.” Clint whines quietly in his throat, and Natasha chuckles, rubbing his short hair. “You'll get your turn one way or another, baby,” she tells him, and Darcy grins.

“I want to start with Thor,” she says, because fun as Clint or any of the others would be, it's Thor that Jane really wants, and of course Darcy wants him for her. He has been watching them despite the awkward angle inherent in being a table. Loki is kneeling beside him, and gives Darcy the look of a man torn between jealousy and really wanting to see her hands on Thor. She obliges him, going to kneel on Thor's other side and smiling at him. “Hi,” she says. “I'm gonna feel you up now, okay?”

“So very okay,” he says softly, and she giggles, kissing his forehead and then squeezing the huge shoulder that she can reach. He is pointlessly cut, nothing but rock-hard muscle under skin that's a lot softer and smoother than she would have expected. She takes her time about it, just mapping Thor with her hands so she can tell Jane all about him later, palms sliding from his shoulders to his sides and then on down to squeeze his ass and to take in the truly astonishing natural architecture of his thighs. She can't hear anything but people breathing quietly, and smiles as she kneels in front of Thor's head, cupping his face and tilting it up enough to kiss him. He moans very quietly, and the china on his back just barely rattles.

“Hold still, Thor,” Natasha says sweetly, and he whines. He kisses kind of sloppy and hungry, and seems to like it when Darcy nibbles on his lower lip as she gropes his chest and pinches each tiny, delicate nipple. It's really awesome when a guy built like Thor is sensitive there, and he so is. There's another tiny rattle of the tray as he does his best to keep himself from leaning into it when Darcy gently pinches is fucking great. She tells him so as she runs her fingers through his hair. Her next subject is how pretty the hair in question is, and Loki chuckles, eyes fever-bright.

“Hey, Thor,” Darcy asks him, “you wanna go further?”

“Are you allowed to?” he asks her, looking amused.

“My mistress loves it when I destroy gorgeous boys for her,” Darcy says, and Thor shivers and looks past her at Jane, who is now brick red.

“Green,” Jane whispers when Darcy looks over at her, and Natasha grins.

“Now,” Darcy says to Thor, “do you want your blowjob or not?”

“Yes, please,” he says, and Natasha grins.

“Nick, darling?”

Nick rises without a sound and finds a condom, waiting for Loki to carefully slide Thor's boxer-briefs out from under the tea tray and then off of him before trading him for the condom. Loki looks like he's feeling some kind of misgiving about passing it on to Darcy. She's not sure which kind, but lets him take a moment.

“...May I put it on him?” Loki says at last, and Darcy grins.

“Sure, but no hands-free stuff, I'm doing the blowing here.”

“Of course,” Loki says, and Thor whimpers as Loki's elegant white hands tear the condom open and roll it onto him. Loki whispers something into Thor's ear in another language, gently biting the edge and then sitting back, making an elegant little bow and gesturing respectfully to the space under Thor. Darcy snickers and crawls beneath him.

“I think my best bet is to come at this sideways,” she says, “but I'll need some head support. Who wants to hold me up?”

Everyone wants to hold her up, but she picks Clint. It's mostly for the arms, because she gets have her head and shoulders kind of cradled in them as Clint kneels by Thor's hip. It takes a few adjustments, but soon Darcy is resting comfortably against Clint and the broad tip of Thor's cock is filling her mouth. She can't really see anything from this angle and figures that they probably actually look pretty stupid, but she loves giving head and totally doesn't care, humming happily as she works as much of Thor down as she can. She can hear the china rattling overhead, but only a tiny bit despite the way Thor's heart is racing and the soft, shattered way he starts moaning.


	111. Femdom Tea  Party VI

Steve has forgotten all about drawing, of course. Later he'll want studies of the set of Clint's shoulders and the expression on his face as he cradles Darcy, but right now all he can do is watch. Bucky is kneeling at his feet and making desperate little sounds, but all Steve can do is hold onto the back of his neck as they both stare. Not really being able to see what Darcy is doing is maddening, and the way Loki is covering Thor's face with kisses and gazing into his wide eyes is unbearably hot and just as touching. The skirt of her already insubstantial dress is riding up on her thighs and Steve can see the growing wet spot on her panties with an artist's eye for its shape and the way the near-flesh color of the fabric darkens. Natasha pulls Steve to lean against her and he goes, still staring. 

She chuckles. “Pretty, aren't they?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Steve breathes, meaning the group of Darcy, Thor, Loki, Clint, as well as everyone else. Bruce is as transfixed as Steve, panting softly as Tony sucks and bites at his neck in a way that's sure to leave marks, and Nick is kissing his way up Pepper's leg as she strokes his bald head. Jane is sitting on the other side of them, her back very straight and her hands clasped in her lap. She's flushed a lovely light pink and her eyes are locked with Thor's whenever he can force them open and isn't staring back at Loki.

Bucky turns and kisses Steve's hand before crawling around Thor to Clint, lithe and feline and perfect. He kisses Clint's shoulder and then makes a trail up the side of Clint's neck, nuzzling the hinge of his jaw before kissing him deep and slow. The china keeps jingling and rattling, but Thor keeps close enough to still to keep it out of danger. Loki sometimes stops biting him long enough to muffle his groans with a kiss, and Clint makes a low, helpless whimpering noise, squirming a little and melting into Bucky even as he holds Darcy steady. She wriggles her shoulders and pushes the neckline of her dress down, moaning happily around Thor's cock as she guides one of Clint's hands and one of Bucky's to her breast, before her own little hands go back to working Thor's balls and the base of his cock.

“You have my permission to come,” Natasha tells Thor, “if that's what you're waiting for.”

Apparently it is, because moments after that Thor cries out, shaking. He just barely keeps the dishes in place, and whines softly as he holds his position, panting. He cries out softly when Loki bites his lower lip, the sound muffled as Loki shifts to kiss Thor in a way that's almost brutal, one hand knotted into his hair and pulling hard.

Darcy giggles, and crawls out from under Thor with an evil grin, pushing the neck of her dress down to her waist where it droops over her belt. She holds out a fist to Clint, and he reaches over Thor and bumps it, looking dazed. “So,” Darcy says, kneeling and facing the couch. “What now, ladies?”

Pepper laughs, sliding her foot over Nick's shoulder and down his back, and Steve shivers, so hard it hurts. His heart is hammering hard enough to worry him a little, but he feels all right. He makes a little noise in his throat at the touch of Natasha's lips on his cheek, senses tuned unbearably high. She chuckles, nuzzling his ear and making him shake and whine.

“I think we shall break up the tea party as such. Nick, take the dishes to the kitchen, please.”

“Yes, mistress,” he says, pressing a kiss to her foot as Pepper releases him. While he's carting everything to the kitchen, Loki and Clint help Thor up and get the condom thrown away. Thor is sleepy and near-useless as he tends to be after he comes, but he he wants to stick around.

“Jane,” Natasha says, “could you look after Thor for a bit? Let him rest his head on your knee, and so on?”

“Sure,” Jane squeaks. “I mean, yes. I'd love that.” Thor shivers happily at her words and crawls over to kneel at her feet, purring and melting into it when she strokes his hair, half out of its ponytail from Loki's grabbing. She carefully takes the tie out, and Steve is reminded again of a fairytale princess and some noble beast as she runs her fingers through Thor's mane. Darcy beams at them, and winks at Steve when she catches his eye.

“Shall we adjourn to the upstairs bedroom?” Natasha asks Jane, who blushes and nods.

“Yes,” she says before Natasha can demand that she use her words. “I'm probably too shy to participate much, but I know Darcy will want more.”

“You damn right,” she says, nuzzling Jane's thigh. There's a sort of helpless look on her face as she pets the two gorgeous subs at her feet, and Steve is pretty sure he has made the same face, stunned by an embarrassment of riches. Natasha calls for Nick to bring some bottled water, and then takes Clint's hand, heading upstairs. Jane leads Thor along in the same way, and Steve takes half of Nick's armload of water.

The bedroom is really a much better place for this kind of thing. Thor can stretch out on one edge of the bed and be cuddled by Jane and Loki while Darcy hauls off her boots and unbuckles her belt and Clint snuggles up to Natasha's side where she sits with her back against the headboard. Steve shivers, setting the water down and then squeaking a little as Bucky gathers him up. Bucky laughs. “Sorry, boss.” He's a little breathless, and sits at the foot of the bed.

“That's fine,” Steve says, sounding more than a little breathless.

“So,” Darcy says, stripping off those soaked panties at long last, “can I try Bruce now? He's cute.”


	112. The One Where Darcy Rides Bruce

Bruce can't deny that terror is part of what he's feeling, but arousal is most of it and Natasha and the others are here to look after him. He yellow-lights and takes a few deep breaths, resting in Natasha's arms as she and Clint rub his back. He glances over at Darcy, who smiles at him, sitting cross-legged on the mattress as though she's in no hurry whatsoever.

“Take your time,” she says, “and if I can't jump onto your huge dick right now, I'll be okay.”

He hides his scalding face in Natasha's breasts and she laughs and kisses the top of his head. “There, there, baby boy. He's shy, you know,” she adds, to Darcy.

“Yeah,” Darcy says, “and always watch out for the quiet ones.”

Bruce nuzzles where he is for a long moment, and then sits up. He can feel that he's still blushing, but he's also mostly hard already. “How do you want me?” he asks softly, and she goes pink for a moment, eyes wide.

“This is gonna be so awesome,” she mutters, and then says, “on your back, at least at first.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he says quietly, and stretches out, Tony's hands beating his to the waistband of his underwear. Tony grins at Bruce as he helps him wriggle free, and Bruce has to smile back. Tony kisses him hungrily, but not for long, pulling back and actually sniffing the underwear because he has no shame whatsoever. Bruce groans and puts his arm over his eyes while Darcy giggles. He looks up again in time to watch her kiss Jane, which is incredibly beautiful, and then to see Steve pass Darcy lube and a condom. The right size, of course. She examines it for a moment and then carefully tears it open, dripping lube on the inside before straddling Bruce's thighs and tenderly rolling it down over him.

“There we go,” she coos. “Comfortable?”

“Y-yes, ma'am,” he says, something very close to his little voice coming out despite his best efforts. Darcy covers his face in little kisses that don't clack their glasses together and tells him that he's adorable, and he shivers at the soft, sleek warmth of her in his arms.

“Ready?” she murmurs into his ear, and he whines, because he is even if he can't help a reflexive surge of worry. Despite living with people who can take him easily, he's always a little worried about hurting his partner. Some part of him will always be thirteen years old and sure that everything about him is monstrous, but Darcy grins down at him, wrapping one little hand around his cock and sighing as she gently strokes the tip up and down her slit. Bruce whines, one hand flying up to cling to Natasha as he tries to just keep breathing. Darcy takes the other hand, lacing their fingers together as she keeps stroking herself with the tip of his cock. “All right, baby?” she coos, and Bruce whimpers.

“Yes,” he breathes, staring up at her. He still feels like he's going to fall apart, but now he doesn't mind. Darcy grins at him and then starts sinking down, her lower lip caught between her teeth and all that focus turned inward, dark eyes half-shut. She's tight, but opens easily for him, a long, slow push that makes him groan and writhe against the sheet, squeezing Darcy and Natasha's hands.

“Fuck,” Tony breathes, crawling close to nuzzle Bruce's chest, “fuck, you're so fucking gorgeous, Bruce.” He gently bites one nipple, sucking as Darcy bottoms out at last with a soft little cry that makes Bruce's hips rock up out of his control. He can't help but worry when she cries out, but she grinds against him in a way that lets him know that it was a good sound, grinning down at him.

“Don't worry so much, honey,” she says, and starts a slow, deep, circular stroke. “Feel that?” she asks. “I've got you.” She has got him, only about an inch of him still outside. Darcy moans softly and starts to move a little faster, lengthening each thrust as she gains speed, holding his hand as Tony sucks his nipples and then moves up to nuzzle his throat, placing gentle kisses all over it that make Bruce tip his head back and whine. It means so much every time, to have someone at his throat and not be hurt. “God, you are so cute,” Darcy informs him, breathless. “And I totally mean both of you,” she adds, interrupting herself with a quiet moan as she pulls most of the way off. “I get the feeling Tony knows he's cute, though,” she says, hovering over Bruce, “and you don't.”

“Lord knows we try to tell him,” Natasha says, and Darcy laughs, beaming down at him before looking up to catch Jane's eye. Even though it makes him feel nervous again, Bruce follows that glance. Jane is blushing bright pink, her eyes huge and her lips parted.

“Enjoying the show, mistress?”

“Definitely,” she says, and when she sees Bruce looking at her her flush deepens and she reaches out to him, stroking his hair. “Are you enjoying my pet?” she asks, and Bruce whines, words feeling like so much effort.

“Yes, ma'am,” he says in what is definitely his little voice this time, and turns his head, whimpering as she shifts her hand enough for him to kiss it. Her skin is so soft, and she uses something that smells like almonds

“Good boy,” Jane says, petting him a little more before pulling away.

Darcy smiles, and then slams down onto Bruce, consuming him in one devastating slide that makes him let go of her hand and Natasha's to cling to Tony and howl. His grip would have hurt them, but Tony loves it when Bruce holds him hard enough to leave marks, when he digs his nails into his back because he knows that he can take it. He tells him so now as he nibbles Bruce's ear.

“All right boys,” Darcy gasps, after riding Bruce hard for a while, “we need to turn over.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Tony says, and Bruce just mewls, incapable of being more articulate. He is capable of letting go of Tony, though, and sitting up after Darcy slips off of him. He realizes that he's shaking a little, and Darcy cups his face in her hands and gives him a long, slow kiss, the kind that grounds him. She smiles when she moves away, and arranges herself on her back, holding her arms out to him.


	113. The One Where Darcy Finishes Riding Bruce

Steve wonders if it's possible to die of being too hard, because it if is he might have to start worrying about that. Now that Darcy has displayed that she can take all of him without breaking a sweat, Bruce is willing to really fuck her, like he had done during that gangbang of Steve in the spring. Darcy stands up to it better, though, kissing and biting and clawing him, urging him on. Bruce loves fingernails on his back even more than Clint does, and now he's groaning and growling deep in his chest, thrusts rocking the whole bed as Darcy gets louder and less coherent. Loki is watching them with wide, feline eyes, and Steve can see his rapid pulse in his throat.

Tony wraps his arms around Steve from behind, nuzzling his neck. “I know it's a hell of a show, but I think we need a little more audience participation.”

“We totally do,” Steve says, shuddering as Tony kisses his neck and slides both hands up his chest to pinch his nipples.

“I think I'm just gonna jerk you off while you watch, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind one bit,” Steve gasps, and Bucky grins at him from across the bed where he's lounging in Nick's arms. Next to Steve, Thor groans and rises onto his knees, hard again, and Jane looks like Steve feels. He locks eyes with her for a moment and her flush deepens before her gaze flicks back to Darcy. Steve follows, and almost doesn't notice the way Tony is working his cock because Darcy is coming with a wild, wavering howl, one hand a talon on Bruce's back, the other fisted in his hair as her hips rock against his. Bruce cries out and goes with her at last, holding her possessively to his chest in a way that makes Steve think of a small child with a teddy bear and of a movie monster with a damsel in distress at the same time.

In the quiet after they shake to a halt, Steve's own desperate cry seems way louder than it is, and he blushes badly, turning his head to hide his face in the side of Tony's neck. Jane laughs softly, the sound disbelieving and profoundly happy. Thor gazes up at her in an almost religious way and Steve really, really wants to watch them fuck. Jane is too shy for that, though. She goes to kiss and pet Darcy, and Bruce too because he's right there and completely open and shattered. He makes a kind of helpless warble as Darcy carefully pushes him out, slithering up toward the head of the bed to help the process along. Bruce whines softly and tips onto his side. Clint passes him some wet wipes for his hands, and once they're clean he wraps around Bruce's back, rock hard but not doing anything about it, nuzzling his hair and murmuring quietly into his ear, just holding him.

“It's so sweet,” Jane says, with Darcy in her arms, “to see how much you all care about each other.”

“I am blessed with beautiful boys far beyond my deserts,” Natasha says, kissing Clint's cheek. “Now that your charming pet has opened the ball,” she adds, “where would you prefer to be?”

“I... You know I'm as shy as Darcy isn't...”

“The bedroom next to this one has lube and an attached bathroom with an adjustable shower head,” Natasha says, and Jane laughs, still bright red.

“That sounds perfect, thank you.”

“You're welcome, dear,” Natasha coos, and Thor very prettily begs for the right to escort them. Jane accepts and Natasha allows.

Darcy kicks her feet and holds out her arms. “Carry me!”

Before Jane can say anything, Thor scoops Darcy up. He carries her very easily, and it's an impressive display on its own and in conjunction with his huge cock, so hard it's on the verge of turning purple. “I-is it all right if I touch you and don't follow through?” she mumbles, nodding her thanks to Nick as he passes her Darcy's clothes.

“Of course!” Thor says, adjusting Darcy's weight like it's nothing, chuckling at her appreciative little squeal. “Even if the others weren't here, my hands are not broken.”

“Oh,” Jane says. “Great.” She glazes over for a second but collects herself quickly, and holds the door for Thor, following him out. Loki sighs as the door shuts, and Natasha chuckles, beckoning him over.

“Sweet little snowflake,” she coos, and Loki smiles, nestling between her legs. 

“Yes?”

“Would you like to torture your big brother when he comes back?”

“May I, mistress?” he breathes, giving her a hilariously innocent look.

“You may,” Natasha says, sweet and syrupy, playing along, “because you are such a good boy.”

They all may, in fact, and everyone has to get up and arrange the bedding and find the heavy duty restraints. They're huge, thick leather cuffs with comfort lining. Loki's eyes are nearly fever-bright as he makes sure that all four of them are connected to the bedposts.

Thor returns, flushed and trembling a little, and he smiles shyly at the sight of the restraints. “Is this what we're playing, then, mistress?”

“Yes, darling,” she says, gesturing for him to take his place in the middle of the mattress, everyone else arranged around the edges. When Thor lies down, Loki binds his right wrist, and Steve takes the left while Bucky and Nick get his feet. Pepper tenderly sweeps Thor's hair up and over the pillow for him, so it won't stick to the back of his neck. He smiles up at her and she leans down to kiss him on the mouth and then the forehead, pulling back to gaze into his eyes.


	114. The One Where Jane And Darcy Share A Shower

Jane can hardly believe that any of this is actually happening, but once Thor has set Darcy on the bed, she pulls him down into a real kiss, rough and drawn out until they're both panting.

“I may not be comfortable putting out on the first date,” Jane tells him, her arms around his neck, “but I want you for later.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he breathes, and makes a sharp, helpless little noise when she squeezes the broad heat of his cock, precome oozing up to bead at the tip.

“You'll be my first uncut man,” she tells him, “and I think I'm going to enjoy that.”

Thor whines, and bows deeply, staying down until she dismisses him. Once the door shuts Darcy starts applauding, and Jane looks over to see her sitting up in the center of the bed, grinning. Jane has to smile back, and after she has draped Darcy's clothes over a chair and set the boots neatly under it, she crawls onto the bed beside her wayward pet, pushing her onto her back and pinning her there, pretty hands over her head, showcasing those gorgeous tits.

“You. Are. Fucking. Perfect,” Jane says, punctuating the words with kisses. “Such a pretty little slut,” she coos, gazing into Darcy's eyes.

“Your pretty little slut, mistress,” Darcy whispers, and Jane kisses her again.

“Yes.” She reaches down to feel where Darcy is still gaping a little, fluttering two fingertips into her, just barely rubbing her clit with the tip of her thumb, luxuriating in how hot and swollen she is. Darcy sighs and spreads her legs, tilting her hips up and trying to get more. For a while Jane just teases her, sucking on each nipple in turn and making Darcy whine and squirm. “So dirty,” Jane purrs, pushing the fingertips into Darcy's mouth now so she can taste her own sweet slickness. “I think we should clean you up.”

Darcy whimpers, her eyes widening. As far as Jane is concerned, one of the main drawbacks of their desert research post is that there is nowhere near enough water to just blast Darcy's clit until she's a hopeless, hypersensitized mess. Here there is, and soon they're seated in the lovely ergonomic niche with the water at just a few degrees more than blood warm. Darcy settles on Jane's lap, and hooks her knees over and her ankles under Jane's, letting her force them wide apart. The first soft pass of the water makes her squirm and try to jump. She can't jump with Jane holding her like this, though, and she moans, getting louder and louder as Jane increases the pressure.

“Hold yourself open,” Jane purrs into Darcy's ear. She whines breathless assent and pulls her outer lips apart, exposing her hard, helpless clit to the spray and shuddering all over, letting out long, pained whimpers. Jane bites her shoulder and pinches one nipple, switching the spray to a massage setting that makes Darcy writhe and howl. Jane has to work to keep her legs spread, and Darcy yelps and whines.

“Mistress,” she gasps, her voice high and thin, almost unrecognizable, “please, please mistress I can't, I can't, it's too much oh mistress oh--”

“You know what you have to say to make it stop,” Jane growls, biting her again and switching the head to a higher setting. Darcy struggles and yowls, but does not safeword. Jane gropes her tits with one hand, rough and fast, pinching each nipple in turn as she pushes the source of the spray even closer. Darcy starts crying out now, high and automatic, her whole body shaking, and Jane moans, going one setting higher and holding it there as Darcy screams. Jane doesn't move as Darcy squirms and gasps and bucks through what may technically be two orgasms, it's hard to say at this point. When Jane finally stops Darcy is almost dead weight, so she switches off the shower and slides to the floor with Darcy, holding her close. 

The water cools on them until it's too cool and they have to get Darcy up on her shaky legs and stagger to the bed. Of course there are about a thousand fluffy towels available, and they can wrap some around their hair and dry their bodies and also put some over the sheets as they cuddle under the blankets. Darcy tucks her head in under Jane's chin, her damp hair like seaweed as she sighs and nuzzles into the dip between Jane's collarbones. Jane rubs a slow circle circle on Darcy's back, her cunt slick and aching and unimportant right now.

Darcy is the one to make it important again. “Mmmmistress?” she says, giggling and walking her first two fingers up from the inside of Jane's knee. She is so fucking adorable it hurts.

“Yyyyyyess?” Jane replies, biting her lip as Darcy walks very slowly up her thigh.

“I think it's time for me to fuck you, your highness,” she says.

“I think you're right, precious pet,” Jane says, and rolls onto her back. Darcy moves with her, and just teases her inner lips for a moment before pushing in at Jane's command. She has been so wet for so long that all four fingers just slide in up to the knuckle and she groans and grinds down on them. Her own size queen tendencies sweep over her in a wave of goosebumps. She doesn't even want to be pounded so much as stretched, opened up and forced to make some massive accommodation, packed to her limits. “I want it all,” she tells Darcy, who beams up at her, her cheek resting on Jane's belly.

“Your wish is my command, mistress,” she says, and folds her thumb into her palm and presses hard, forcing her way in because she understands. Jane cries out, pushing down and swallowing Darcy to the wrist. She signals Darcy to stay still then, and they just breathe together for a while until Jane relaxes and Darcy can ball her hand into a fist, setting up a slow, deep, and vast rocking in Jane that leaves her melted on the bed, eyes shut and mouth hanging open as Darcy's fist fucks back and forth, each stroke some tiny increment longer, stretching her that much more.


	115. The One Where Everyone Gangs Up On Thor

It really doesn't seem fair to Steve. Thor was already so hard and had been waiting so long, and now he has Loki riding his cock viciously hard while Darcy's voice rises and rises in the other room, a helpless sound that makes Steve want to bite someone. Clint is right here next to him now, so he turns his head and bites that beautiful shoulder, making Clint shiver and groan. Steve bites a little harder and he twitches and whimpers, grabbing Steve and bundling him into his lap. They have a good vantage point of the action as Natasha starts to work out the batting order.

“Tony next,” she says, “and then me,” Clint whines and she smiles. “Then Clint and then Nick, and we can work out the rest from there, provided Thor lasts.”

“I'll do my best, mistress,” Thor whimpers before crying out again as Loki tightens on him as hard as he can. Thor moans and whimpers as Loki uses him to come, stroking his own cock before crawling up to come all over Thor's chest, making him cry out, his pulse visible in his cock. Tony grins, and kisses Loki as he takes his place.

“It's like you can read minds,” he says, grinning as he lines himself up to fuck the dip between Thor's pecs, slick now with Loki's come.

“I do what I can,” Loki purrs, curling up in Bruce's arms. Bruce is still wrung out and sleepy from fucking Darcy, and he just makes a happy little noise and wraps around Loki. Steve smiles, shivering as Clint kisses his neck and everyone watches Tony's hips grinding.

“Here I am,” he pants, “all alone, no moral support of any kind--” Pepper rolls her eyes, crawling over to slap his ass hard, making him jump and yelp. The yelp fades into a moan as she does it again on the other side, grinning.

“Better, baby? Do you feel supported now?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Tony breathes, and Pepper spanks him a few more times, whispering in his ear as he whines and shakes and jerks off over Thor's chest, adding to the giant smear that's already there. Thor squirms and whimpers, mewling into Tony's mouth when he kisses him before kissing Pepper and crawling off to cuddle with her and with Bruce, who has woken up enough to kiss them both while Loki purrs and nuzzles his chest hair.

“Give me a color, sweetheart,” Natasha says, stroking Thor's hair.

“Green,” he pants, “green, I can do it.”

She chuckles. “If you say so, darling,” she says, and straddles his face. Steve squirms and shifts to rub against Clint's thigh a little, hoping he'll last until his turn. Clint shivers and whines, apparently feeling about the same. His eyes are locked on Natasha as she moans softly, her breasts overflowing her dainty hands as she rides Thor's face, muffling his helpless little whimpers and deep groans. Clint kisses Steve and then crawls over to her, softly asking permission to touch. Natasha smiles and pulls him into a kiss, letting his hands take the place of her own as she pants harshly, faster and faster until her thighs shake and she cries out, pressing down into Thor's mouth as she comes. 

When Clint helps her dismount, Thor's face is a wet, shiny mess, and he whines as Clint leans in to lick some of it off before asking Bucky to pass him the lube, since he's the closest to the nightstand, resting in Nick's arms. Nick nibbles his ear as he passes it to Clint, who slicks two fingers and pushes them into Thor, who whines and squirms, his cock so hard it makes Steve ache to look at him. Just as he's starting to beg, Clint slips his fingers out and his cock in, making Thor let out a noise that's almost a scream.

Clint is fast and almost clinical, finding Thor's prostate and then avoiding it as he uses his hole to come. Steve shivers, and goes to snuggle into Bucky's arms for its own sake and because it offers a better view. Thor is crying by the time Clint grunts and then comes in open-mouthed silence, buried as deep into Thor as he can get.

“Fuck,” Thor whimpers, “ _please_ please please please...”

“Color?” Natasha purrs, stroking his hair.

“Y-yellow, mistress, please, if I can't come I need a moment, please.”

“Of course, darling,” she says. It's good timing, because a moment later they hear a desperate wail from the other room that must be Jane. Even with no one touching him at all Thor's cock twitches and spurts a tiny jet of precome as he desperately tries to keep his breathing even. He whimpers something in Aesir, and Loki bestirs himself to come and kiss him softly, petting him until he whispers, “Green,” and Nick comes over to take his turn. Bucky can't help a little complaining noise, but then just cuddles Steve more as they watch Nick stretch out between Thor's legs, taking the flushed, slick head of his cock into his mouth and purring softly as he strokes himself. He sucks Thor almost lazily, jerking himself faster and rougher as Thor whimpers and takes deep, slow, shaky breaths as Loki strokes his hair and murmurs to him in Aesir.

Nick's muffled cry around Thor's cock as he comes and Thor almost follows him makes Steve squirm and bite Bucky, who groans quietly. “Fucking hell,” he whispers, and Steve laughs weakly.

“Y-yeah.”

“Who goes next?” Natasha asks, looking around. B

Bruce is sitting up and taking notice now, but he says, “I think I need to go last,” and Natasha laughs.

“Did our pretty little guest tire you out, baby boy?”

Bruce blushes and nods. Tony grins and kisses his cheek, and Natasha looks at Pepper. “Do you want the next turn?”

“Yes, mistress,” she says, and Thor groans, writhing against the mattress. Loki kisses him, and Pepper crawls onto Thor, her lightly weight easy for him to bear. She just rests there, sighing as she rubs her own clit and Thor tugs at the cuffs and whines.


	116. The One Where Everyone Finishes Ganging Up On Thor

Pepper is already aching and wet, but she waits until she's almost coming before she slides down onto Thor. This is one of her favorite things to do, anyway, and it seems more merciful to Thor. He still wails, and she rides him fast, still rubbing her clit and wondering if she's going to make him lose the game. He holds it together, though, even as she contracts around him, panting and shaking as she comes. She slides off slowly, and Bruce helps her into Tony's arms, because she can barely get there by herself. Loki slides a hand up her inner thigh, giving her a questioning look. She shivers, and nods, letting him slide two of those long, slender fingers into her as Tony squeezes her breasts and bites the side of her neck.

“Steve,” Natasha says, snapping him out of the semi-artistic reverie he gets into when he's watching, “your turn.”

Bucky grumbles, but kisses Steve's cheek and smiles as he lets him go. Steve looks very small and very shaky as he ranges over Thor. He's even lighter than Pepper, and so lies on Thor and kisses him for a while, his tiny chest pressed to Thor's massive one as they breath together. When Thor is calmer, Steve straddles his face and guides the tip of his cock into Thor's slack, panting mouth. He moans, reddened lips wrapping around Steve as he sucks him down.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve whines, barely audible, and then gets a white-knuckled grip on the top of the headboard as he starts to fuck Thor's mouth. He's slow and controlled, and when Thor gags Pepper knows that it was on purpose and clenches hard on Loki's fingers. He smirks, crooking them and pressing up into the dip behind her g-spot and making her feel like she might piss herself or come again or explode or something. She groans and squirms, crying out softly as Tony bites her neck and pinches her nipples while Bruce covers his back in kisses, wrapping an arm around him to rest one hand on Pepper's hip.

Natasha smiles at him, resting in Nick's arms as Thor moans around Steve's cock. Pepper's only regret about her current position is that she can't see Thor's face, but the play of muscles alongside Steve's knobbly spine almost makes up for it. His skinny hips speed up and Thor gags again, his cock twitching. He writhes as Steve moans and comes down his throat, and for a moment Pepper thinks that it won't matter that no one is touching his cock, a thought that makes her drip onto Loki's hand. He whimpers quietly as Thor drags in deep, ragged breaths, his broad chest heaving as Steve climbs down and kisses him. It goes on for a long time, slow and loving and sloppy, and Thor is wide-eyed and flushed when Steve pulls away.

“Just two more,” Steve croons, stroking Thor's hair. “Just two more, baby.” Thor just whines and cranes his neck to kiss Steve's hand.

“Bucky's turn,” Natasha says, and Bucky practically leaps onto Thor. He doesn't tease him with fingers at all, just makes sure he's loose enough and slides right in, making him jump and wail, pleading with Bucky to not make him come, that he's so close and that he wants to be a good boy for Natasha.

“I know,” Bucky pants, kissing him and pulling his hair, “that's why I'm gonna do this real quick.” He is as good as his word, coming after about a minute of rapid, desperate thrusting that makes Thor wail. Pepper comes just a few seconds after Bucky, shaking in Tony's arms as Loki sighs and rests his head on her thigh, gazing up at her. He somehow looks reverent and mischievous at the same time, and Pepper smiles at him, still a little breathless. He presses a kiss to her belly, and then moves with Bruce, looking to Natasha as he does.

“Mistress, may I help Bruce finish Thor off?”

“You may,” she says, and Thor makes a helpless, choked kind of noise. Bruce looks even bigger pushing into Thor's ass than he did when he was fucking Darcy, but with Thor as desperate as he is and with Clint and Bucky having both come inside him, it's an easy fit. Thor wails and then barely stops to breath as Bruce pounds him senseless and Loki nibbles and licks one ear, murmuring in Aesir and then pushing his still slick fingers in beside Bruce, make Thor sob, whimpering, “Green,” before Natasha can ask and then breaking into Aesir as the pair of them fuck the English right out of him. He's a helpless, sweaty mess and he screams when Bruce comes, following him the second Bruce touches his cock, bucking for a long time as Bruce keeps stroking him, his cock and Loki's fingers still buried deep inside. Thor whimpers and shakes down to panting stillness. He's beautiful like this, so powerful and so completely helpless.

“Do you want us to untie you?” Natasha asks, and Thor shudders.

“Y-yes, mistress.”

She smiles, and Pepper stretches and then gets up, going to wet some towels while Clint and Nick dig under the bed for a fresh box of wet wipes. By the time she comes back, Natasha is holding Thor, petting and praising him as Steve tenderly wipes his genitals and Bucky kisses his clean, damp chest and face. Pepper hands the towels around and then snuggles in between Bucky and Thor when her mistress gestures for her to join them. Thor whimpers softly, and Pepper nuzzles the side of his face.

“Such a sweet boy,” she says, as the others clean up and put towels over the various wet spots. They could pull the blankets back up, but it's hot enough that no one wants that yet. As it is they form a big pile around Thor and don't move until Darcy knocks on the door. Steve gets up, and everyone is delighted to welcome Jane and Darcy to the pile. They're still damp, wearing borrowed bathrobes and glowing. Pepper kisses Darcy's cheek because she settles close enough, and Darcy beams at her.

“Hi. We totally want a recap of the good parts.”

“We would love the same,” Natasha says, “but of course it isn't required.”


	117. The One Where Thor Gets His Prize

Steve is very sleepy with his exertions, and he's glad to just doze in Bucky's arms, struggling to open his eyes once in a while so he can see Darcy as she tells everyone about 'Jane's A+ use of your awesome pervert shower' while Jane blushes. Steve zones out for a bit, and comes back up to Natasha explaining that Thor managed to last through being used by everyone, and that now he gets to choose his reward. Steve cracks one eye to watch Thor deliberate, lying with his head in Natasha's lap as she strokes his hair and smiles down at him. 

They're beautiful, and Steve mumbles, “Need my sketchbook.”

“There you are,” Bucky coos, kissing his forehead. Darcy giggles close by, and Steve looks over at her with a smile.

She smiles back. “Can I kiss you? You're adorable.”

“Please,” Steve says, and sighs as Darcy leans in and kisses him. It's soft and sweet and she lingers over it until Steve is a little dizzy, and not from lack of oxygen.

“Some guys have all the luck,” Bucky murmurs, grinning down at them.

“There's more where that came from,” Darcy says, and Steve wishes for his sketchbook more than ever as she kisses Bucky.

“Lovely as this is,” Natasha says when they part, “we need to let Thor focus.”

Thor purrs and nuzzles into her hand. “I know what I want, mistress,” he says softly.

“Oh?”

“Two things, mistress: an Aesir roast dinner,” he says, and everyone groans dismally.

“That's too damn heavy for summer!” Clint wails, overlapping with Tony's, “I hate that shit with the anchovies and all the sugar!”

Natasha just laughs. “Thor gets to choose,” she says, “and there's nothing you can do about it. What's the second thing, sweet boy?”

Thor blushes, squirming a little. “As many kisses as Jane feels comfortable giving me, mistress,” he says softly, and Natasha laughs again.

“A bold answer,” she says, leaning down to kiss his forehead. When she raises her head again, she looks over at Jane, who is hiding her bright pink face in Darcy's shoulder. “What do you say, Jane?”

“I say okay,” she says, almost too quietly to hear, peeking out at Natasha and Thor with one eye. Thor beams at her and she smiles back, flush deepening even as she finds the courage to raise her head.

“Does this need to be a spectator event?” Darcy asks, and Jane kisses her cheek.

“You're sweet to think of it, pet,” she says softly, with that utter authority that comes through her shyness at the strangest times and in the strangest ways, “but it seems cruel to make Thor move when he's so comfortable.”

Darcy giggles, studying Thor for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you're right. May I help give the kisses?”

“You may snuggle him while I work,” Jane says, crawling over to Thor, “if you have no objections,” she adds, to him, and he just grins from ear to ear..

“None whatsoever,” he says, and Natasha chuckles, arranging herself so that Thor's head is in her lap while Darcy cuddles in under one arm and Jane leans in from the other side.

“Do I have full discretion as to the type and location of these kisses?” she coos, and Thor shivers, gazing up at her in a way that makes Steve more desperate for art supplies than ever.

“Of course you do,” Thor whispers, and then shivers all over as she kisses his forehead. Jane smiles down at him and Steve groans, fidgeting as Bucky laughs at him.

“You can take a portrait later, Picasso,” he murmurs, and Steve doesn't even bother to point out how rarely Picasso did traditional portraiture because he's too busy watching as Jane kisses the corner of Thor's eye, and then nuzzles into his beard to kiss the hinge of his jaw as he whimpers softly, utterly still and intent under Jane.

“That's three,” Jane says. The entire bed hears her, but only because all of them are silent, trying not to even breathe too loudly as they watch.

“Gonna go for a half-dozen, mistress?” Darcy asks, eyes sparkling.

“Perhaps,” Jane murmurs, gazing down at Thor and stroking his hair. “He is a lot of fun to kiss.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” Thor whispers, and Jane smiles.

“You're more than welcome,” she says, and then leans down to kiss him on the mouth. He moans and Steve can see his toes curl. Jane makes a little noise in her throat and there's a flash of her tongue as she pushes into Thor's mouth. 

He melts, clutching at her and at Darcy and all Steve can do is mutter, “ _Portrait_ ” while Bucky chuckles into his ear.

“You'll get your chance,” he says, and then shuts up again because neither of them want to miss the helpless sound Thor makes when Jane finally pulls away, or the look on her face as she gazes down at Thor, somehow predatory and shy at the same time, like she wants to eat Thor alive but is embarrassed about it. Steve can relate.

Steve can see Jane remembering how to speak. It's a bit of a process, but at last she says, “so that was four.”

“Totally go for the half-dozen, mistress.”

Jane chuckles. “Bossy pet, but you're right.”

“So right,” Darcy chirps, and then goes quiet along with everyone else as Jane kisses Thor again, making him moan. Natasha pets all three of them as Jane goes for the full half-dozen and then gives Thor a bonus seventh kiss that leaves him a happy, flush-faced mess.

“Thank you for treating my boy so well,” Natasha says. “Would you like to come to a horribly unseasonable Aesir roast dinner next week?”

Jane laughs. “We'd love to.”


	118. Roast Dinner I

It's just like Thor to want a fucking roast in the middle of summer, and it's just like Loki to be stupid enough to help, because yes, his fishballs, dumplings, and cabbage soup are about as good as Thor's mother's, and that's saying something. He has always resisted the idea of service submission, but he can't deny that there's a kind of warm glow to making something for Thor. He does his best to keep it from being obvious, and complains the whole way even as Natasha tosses anchovies in sugar and Clint bastes the ham.

It has to be at least ninety-five degrees outside, and all the windows are open, letting in the warm breeze. “I cannot believe that asshole,” Clint mutters, closing the oven door and wiping his brow with the back of one hand.

“I know,” Loki says, giving the fishball ingredients another pulse in the blender. “Thor is an unmitigated bastard, and we would have our revenge if we hadn't already tortured him.”

Clint snickers. “We did get him pretty good, didn't we?”

“We did, little bird,” Loki says, ruffling Clint's hair before washing his hands and getting back to work. Good fishballs are all about taking pains, and Loki doesn't leave the kitchen for at least another half hour, making a neat stack of the little nearly-white spheres in the fridge and then going off to do anything else for a while.

The living room is much cooler, and he laughs to see Tony carefully balancing things on Steve's head as he draws, too engrossed even to tell him to fuck off. Loki goes over and gently plucks Steve's phone from his head and sets it down on the end table, wrapping himself around Tony from behind, taking both of his hands.

“Don't bother the artist, dear,” he coos, and Tony laughs.

“I don't think anything could bother him right now.”

“Nothing could bother me more than my deadline,” Steve says, not looking up. “I got six pages to pencil in the next two days and I should really be more responsible.”

“You'll be fine,” Loki says. “Shall I take Tony away with me?”

“Please,” Steve says, erasing something and blowing the crumbs of rubber off of the page. “Love you, Tony,” he adds, and Tony laughs.

“Love you too, sugartits,” he says, and lets Loki tow him down to the basement, which is even cooler. 

There are kiddie pools down here full of lukewarm water with different bath bombs, and Bucky is sprawled in one, hands and feet hanging over the edge, his head tipped back against it. Clint is in another, and Loki claims the nearest free one for himself, dropping his clothes into a sloppy heap on the floor and letting out a voluptuous hiss as he sinks into lavender-honey-apricot water.

“I know, right?” Bucky says, not opening his eyes. “Steve hasn't roasted, has he?”

“He's drawing in the living room, which is still livable,” Loki says. “Have you seen Thor anywhere?”

“I think he's been primping for like, the last two hours.”

“That would explain why there was no one standing at my elbow to make sure that I mixed the fishballs smooth enough,” he says. There's a small rustle and splash as Tony joins Clint, who grumbles about there still being two tubs free even as he kisses him.

“We're s'pposed to keep our nasty sweaty bodies out of the last one,” Bucky says, “it's for our company.”

“True,” Clint says, and kisses Tony again. “And it's not like I don't love Tony.”

“Everybody loves me,” Tony says, “some just have a harder time admitting it than others.”

“Dickhead,” Clint says, and bites his jaw, nibbling and nuzzling along it to kiss his neck as he purrs. “We do all love you, though.”

“I'm surprised Nick isn't down here,” Loki says, pouring a palmful of water over his chest.

“Napping,” Tony says, a little muffled by Clint's shoulder. “He's an old man and he needs his rest.”

“'Specially after drilling you so hard,” Bucky mumbles, and Loki sniffs.

“Well, I'm glad everyone was having a good time while Clint and Natasha and I tried not to die of heat exhaustion.”

“We believed in you,” Tony says. “We knew that you are strong and would prevail.”

“We also knew that you can burn water,” Clint says, and Tony splashes him.

“And that you're a dick.”

“And that you're a cocksucker and it's no wonder we get along.”

Loki laughs, and closes his eyes, dozing for a while in the cool water as Clint and Tony bicker gently and Bucky heaves himself up onto his feet, grabbing a towel. By the time Loki is really awake again, he's alone in the basement except for Natasha, who smiles down at him and strokes his damp hair.

“Come, snowflake, I know you'll want to make yourself pretty before our guests arrive.”

Loki chuckles, and kisses her hand, levering himself up slowly and thanking his darling mistress for the fluffy towel she wraps him in. Nick is managing the kitchen as Loki wanders past, and he's glad to see that nothing is actually on fire. Upstairs, Thor's wardrobe seems have to exploded across their bedroom. He has at least found just the right pair of tight, faded jeans, but he's in the middle of changing his shirt for what must be the tenth time at least.

“Go without or wear the blue thing Clint tore up last week,” Loki says, kissing Thor's cheek as he brushes by him to pull a long, light dress out of the closet. It's a sleeveless shift, and all he has to do is pull it over his head and comb his hair to be mostly presentable.

“Thank you, little brother,” Thor says softly, putting the various rejected shirts away, and Loki can feel himself blush.

“You're welcome,” he says, clipping his hair to the side with a silver barrette adorned with a spider, and then lining his lips in the near-violet that suits him so well.


	119. Roast Dinner II

All this Asgardian food probably is too heavy for a day like this, but Steve is hungry and at least some of it smells promising. He's more concerned with Darcy's commission, which is done and hopefully up to standard. It's stashed up in the spare bedroom that he and Bucky spend the most time in. Bucky is up there too, studying his hair critically in the mirror.

“I can't decide if I should cut it or keep going,” he says, and Steve shrugs.

“It's pretty when it's long, but it's your hair. Not like you won't look good with whatever you pick.”

Bucky laughs. “Aw, baby. You always know the right thing to say.”

“Return the favor,” Steve says, digging the finished commission in its plastic sleeve out of the closet. “Tell me this is good. Lie if you have to.”

“I don't have to,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “This is fucking great, okay? The coloring is some of the best you've ever done and they're going to love it.”

Steve sets the picture on the bed so that he can hug Bucky tightly. “Thanks,” he mumbles into his chest, and Bucky chuckles.

“Hey, I didn't even have to lie, remember?”

Steve stands on tiptoe to kiss him, and they get distracted for long enough that they're just heading down the stairs when Darcy and Jane arrive.

“Man,” Darcy says, bounding into the room, “it smells like Easter. But weird Easter. Good-weird,” she hastens to add, and Steve laughs.

“God bless this fucking heat,” Bucky mutters, doing his best not to stare at her too much, since she's wearing nothing but a black sports bra and a pair of very short cutoffs. 

Jane is almost as arresting in a sundress that Steve hopes Thor will survive. During some idle conversation over the winter, he had said something about the captivating effect of a dress that hits just below the tops of the thighs. Jane wears hers very well, and Thor kneels to greet her like he can't even help it, like her presence cuts his strings. Steve shivers in the heat, and sternly reminds himself not to bend the picture he's holding, glad of the sleeve that keeps him from getting sweat on the edges.

Natasha welcomes them in, and calls Steve down, an order cutting through his shyness. “Show the ladies their picture,” she says, one hand resting at the small of his back. 

Steve blushes and squirms, but hands it to Darcy, who takes it carefully and just stares for a long moment, Jane looking over her shoulder. The tension is almost more than Steve can bear, and Darcy breaks it by digging into her pocket and handing him fifty dollars.

“I said thirty,” he says, even as he accepts it.

“You went above and beyond,” Darcy says, “and this is totally bigger than you said, you take that extra twenty and shut up.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Steve says, and she laughs, going to stash the drawing by the door, where it will be easy to grab on her way out.

“So,” she says as she comes back, tolerantly rolling her eyes at the way Jane and Thor are gazing at each other, “what are we having?”

“I don't remember all of it, but there's a ham, and fishballs, and some kind of soup, and this thing with anchovies and sugar.”

“I can give you the full tour, if you like,” Loki says, emerging from the kitchen. “Since Thor is so clearly useless.” Jane kisses Thor, and he literally sweeps her off her feet. Loki makes a disgusted little cat noise and offers Darcy his hand.

“Stop making your badface, you know they're lovely,” she says, lacing their fingers together, “and so are you,” she adds, following him into the kitchen. “Seriously, I love your hair clip.” 

“Thank you,” Loki murmurs.

Steve elects to move with them, and Bucky ambles after him so that Thor and Jane can just have their moment by the door. Loki names the seven dishes of a traditional Aesir roast dinner, and then Natasha and Pepper come downstairs to actually hostess. Since the table is already set, Steve just sits down to get out of the way, and is soon joined by Bucky and Nick, who has only recently emerged from his nap, still a little slow and sleepy-eyed. It's so cute that Steve has to kiss him, and Nick purrs into his mouth.

“God, you are so cute,” Darcy says, and Bucky laughs as Bruce finally emerges from the lab, still looking distracted as he settles in next to Tony.

“Which one?”

“Both, but I meant Nick that time.”

He thanks her and kisses her hand, since he can't lean far enough for any other kind, and then everyone has to keep their arms down and stay out of the way of hot serving dishes. It really is like Thanksgiving, and even as Steve is overwhelmed at the thought of the leftovers, Thor's childlike delight is a joy to witness. He helps Clint, Natasha, and Loki serve everyone, and is very careful to give Jane just a tiny bit of each thing, like she asks. Steve would request the same, but he has Bucky to clean his plate for him.

No one begins until Jane tastes her plate, and Steve can see it making her tense. Darcy takes a defiantly huge bite of ham and pronounces it, “Seriously fuckin' good.” 

It's sweet, watching her deflect attention from her shy girlfriend. The ham is also sweet, and loaded with cinnamon. It's bizarre, but Steve can't deny its appeal. This is true of almost everything on his plate, though of course his little bowl of cabbage soup tastes like home, Mom was Irish. 

Tony grimly shoves some of the anchovy and potato casserole into his mouth. “I hate you, Thor,” he grumbles around it, and Thor just laughs.


	120. Roast Dinner III

When Thor asks if he can address Jane as 'ma'am,' she blushes and says that he may, while Darcy squeals in delight.

“I knew you had class,” she says, and everyone laughs as she blows him a kiss across the table, even Loki.

The others only pick at all the delicious dishes, but Thor was expecting that. The heat does almost nothing to his appetite, and he has fourths of everything, still eating long after everyone else has stopped. Tony is stretched groaning on the couch, occasionally yelling semi-comatose curses at Thor while Pepper laughs at him and rubs his belly. Bruce is sprawled on the floor at the foot of the couch, humming to himself and occasionally reaching up to ruffle Tony's hair. Nick is tipped back in the recliner, and Natasha lounges in his arms. 

Steve and Bucky are still at the table, Bucky sipping a second drink and watching as Steve sketches what looks like some kind of spaceship. Clint and Darcy are talking about the children's TV shows they both watch, and for the moment Jane is just smiling fondly at them while Loki sits and sips ice water, on the verge of a sulk but not quite doing it. Thor its touched by the effort, and presses his foot over Loki's, hands busy cutting up the last slice of ham he can comfortably take on. Loki gives him that barely-there smile where all the warmth is in his eyes, and Thor can feel himself beaming back before he returns to his plate.

“I'm really not sure who's more adorable,” Jane says, glancing from Darcy to Thor. He can feel himself blushing, and grins at her.

“I'm just glad to place, ma'am.” He looks over at Loki, pressing his foot again. “And I'm glad you cook so well.”

Jane agrees, and asks Loki for the fishball recipe, which he does not hesitate to give her. By the time she has it written down, Thor is finished with his last helping, and even he will need a break before dessert. He carries his plate to the kitchen and comes back to clear the table, carefully wrapping up all the leftover food. By the time he's finished with that, everyone has adjourned to the basement to lie around in the little plastic pools.

Thor goes to join them once everything perishable is put away, and smiles to hear Natasha telling Jane and Darcy about SHIELD and the work she does for the company.

“I did some hardcore in my youth,” she's saying, “but that escalates quickly, and I was finally in a situation where I would have really been in trouble if my costar hadn't been kind to me.”

“What was he like?” Darcy asks, and Steve bursts out laughing, the others joining in. Thor reaches the base of the stairs, grinning as he pulls off his shirt and drops it to the floor.

“I'll let Steve tell you,” Natasha says, rolling onto her belly to watch Thor undressing, while Pepper just purrs and kisses her smooth, white shoulder.

“So like, five years ago,” Steve says, turning to watch Thor as well and resting a proprietary hand on Bucky's chest, “The foreman from Bucky's heard about a construction project a few towns away and went to see if he could pick up some work, since at the time there was nothing local and we were so broke it wasn't funny. He came back at the end of the month with a nice fat check that we really needed, since I got sick. Again.” He rolls his eyes, and Bucky puts his hand over Steve's, lacing their fingers together. Steve sighs. “Anyway, he never told me that the construction project fell through and that the money was from making porn.”

Thor drops the last of his clothes to the floor, and goes to slip into the water beside Loki and Clint, gathering them into his arms as he arranges himself so that he can watch Jane, who's still wearing her underwear as she lazily pours a handful of water down Darcy's back. The thin fabric is almost completely transparent, and Thor quivers a little, keeping back some small noise in his throat.

“I was a little hung up on the sex work thing,” Bucky says, “and I was a lot hung up on the content. It was gross and disrespectful and neither of us liked it.”

“There was some recreational fucking after hours,” Natasha adds, “and _that_ was fantastic.”

“Of course,” Nick drawls, “it all led to a kind of awkward dinner party.”

Darcy laughs, and Jane giggles behind her hand, eyes shining. Thor is more captivated than ever, and Loki makes an irritable noise next to him. Clint chuckles, and kisses his cheek.

“There, there, princess,” he says, and Loki slaps his arm, making Thor laugh.

They stay where they are for a while, talking about SHIELD, fashion, and particle physics, but at last Thor's craving for dessert gets the better of him. Rather than demanding the rich pies and cakes that are usually served with a roast dinner, they're having a dessert combination that's actually meant for a hot summer day like this. He levers himself up out of the water and the others start doing the same. Steve fetches towels for everyone, and clings a little bit when Thor hugs him tightly.

“God, there's just so much of you,” he mumbles into Thor's chest, and Thor laughs.

“I'm just glad you like it, little one.” He kisses Steve's forehead and helps him pass out the towels, wrapping one around Jane's shoulders, his heart fluttering when she thanks him with a sweet smile.


	121. Roast Dinner IV

Watching Jane tenderly hand-feed Thor his dessert is one of the loveliest things Steve has seen this month, and he's been looking at photographic references for woman-on-woman sexual positions, as well as life-drawing Natasha and Pepper. Still, Thor is beautiful on his knees, his eyes shining up at Jane as she feeds him sweet dumplings and spoonfuls of sauce, taking care to keep everything neat. 

Loki seems to be cycling between jealousy and compersion, and Darcy is doing yeoman-like service in keeping him entertained. She asks about the history and composition of every dish, and already knows him well enough to realize that flattery will get her everywhere. And it's easy to flatter when every dish Loki put his hand to is delicious. Everything is good, but the fishballs melted in his mouth and these dumplings are just a little resistant and chewy, a texture that Steve knows from bitter experience can be nearly impossible to attain.

"Yeah," Darcy says, "I never really ran into dessert soup until I had this Cantonese roommate in undergrad. She got me onto tong sui, though, and this is a lot different. From the ones I ate, anyway, tong sui is more of a category than a thing."

"Do some of them involve silky tofu?" Natasha drawls, feeding Clint a dumpling. He's not kneeling, but may end up on the floor soon, so loose and relaxed in his chair, practically purring.

"Yeah, sometimes," Darcy says, taking another sip of the sweet sauce the little spheres are floating in.

"A few people at SHIELD have brought in little plastic cups from the Asian markets," she says. "I like this better, but it was handmade by an expert, so the comparison is hardly fair."

Steve feels like he should be helping with this whole program of complimenting Loki to remind him that Thor isn't the only person who cares about him, but between the heat and the huge meal, he can barely keep his eyes open. He manages to avoid falling into his soup, and chuckles at the way Bucky grabs at his shoulders.

"'mallright," Steve tells him, and yawns hugely even in the presence of company. "Just need a nap like the little old man I am."

"Stop stayin' up all night drawin' smutty comic books," Bucky tells him, and heaves him up out of his chair. 

Steve slaps Bucky's shoulder because he's embarrassed to be carried in front of Jane and Darcy and so what if they've all been sitting here in their underwear (except for Jane, covered in one of Thor's enormous t-shirts) this whole time, but can't really bring himself to register any other complaint. He's tired, and he _was_ up all night drawing. He yawns again, and kisses his fingertips, pressing them to the spot he slapped before waving a bleary farewell at everyone as Bucky carries him to the back room where Nick was napping earlier, because it's the coolest and the quietest, perfect for sleep during even a day as hot as this. Bucky pulls off Steve's briefs and then tucks him under one sheet and a thin blanket. In the few seconds it takes for him to remove his own underwear and crawl in as well, Steve is almost asleep. It's a bit hot to cuddle, but he still makes a contented little noise, cuddling in against Bucky's chest as the air conditioner kicks on.

Steve dreams something about princesses and an enchanted bear, and wakes himself up with his own quiet laughter. "Back with us?" Bucky murmurs, and Steve sighs, kissing his chest.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

"Nearly seven, now. You needed that nap."

"Guess I did," Steve says, and yawns, rolling away from Bucky to stretch. "Am I in time to say goodbye to Jane and Darcy?"

"You're in time to say goodnight. They're here for another five days or so, and you know they're gonna be back for more Thor."

Steve chuckles and sits up, running a hand through his hair. "Probably. Are people wearing clothes again?"

"Natasha had one of Pepper's housedresses on when she stuck her head in to check on us," Bucky says.

"Aren't those a little small for her?"

"Only in the tits, it's _amazing_." Bucky rolls out of bed and onto his feet, gloriously naked as he goes to a stack of folded clothes on the dresser. "She thought you'd want clothes and that I'd want to match," he adds, and tosses Steve a pair of jeans, fresh underwear, and a Transformers t-shirt that Tony wears for ageplay purposes. Steve rolls his eyes, but puts it on.

Once both of them are dressed, they make their grand entrance downstairs, where Jane is sitting on Thor's lap and having another impromptu science conference with Bruce and Tony, and Darcy is lovingly putting Loki's hair into complicated braids. Steve would expect him to react like a cat forced into doll clothes by a child, but he actually looks surprisingly content, resting against the back of the couch while Darcy sits on it to work. Behind her, Clint is lazily standing there with a beer, spotting her without acting like it. Natasha is sitting in one of the armchairs, and Nick is set up at her feet, resting his head on her knee.

Natasha looks up when they approach, and smiles, holding out her hand. Steve takes it and kisses it, blushing a little when her smile widens. "Way to class up the joint, Rogers," Bucky says, and then does the same. There's plenty of room on on the furniture, but both of them would rather join Nick on the floor. He shifts from kneeling to sitting cross-legged so that Steve can climb into his lap, and Bucky settles on the other side. Natasha pets them both, looking fond and amused.

"You guys really are sweet together," Darcy says during a lull in the science. "You're like some kind of awesome kinkster family."

"That's certainly the goal," Natasha says, twining her fingers into Bucky's hair.


	122. Roast Dinner V

It's not often that Nick is quite this relaxed. He would probably blame the ham if he had to name one culprit, but it's also the heat and the sweet, open friendliness of their guests and the way Natasha's fingertips keep rubbing gentle circles on his scalp. He makes something that's more of a feeling than a sound in his throat, and nuzzles Natasha's thigh like a cat, one hand slipping a little under Steve's shirt to rest on his skinny, smooth little belly. Steve wriggles happily, and Nick smiles, just feeling him and Natasha, perfectly comfortable as the evening cools. He lets everyone talk around him, just being here, but he tunes back into the conversation when Jane starts making leaving noises. It's only polite.

"Since we've paid for the hotel we might as well use it," she's saying, "and it's closer to the last two days of the conference."

"Sensible," Natasha agrees. "I can pay for your cab or one of the boys can drive you." Nick hopes this doesn't include him, sleepy as he feels now, and Natasha gives him a reassuring pat as if she's reading his mind.

"I say Thor should drive us," Darcy says, still engrossed in braiding Loki's hair, "but not until I'm done making Loki even prettier."

"A difficult task for anyone," Loki purrs, and Darcy laughs, leaning down and kissing the top of his head like they've known each other forever.

"Yes," she says, "but I'm up to this challenge. Besides, waterfall braids make everything prettier. There!"

When Loki stands and turns to display her handiwork, everyone present has to agree. Darcy beams and hops down from the couch so quickly that Clint's arms flash up to catch her before he realizes that he doesn't need to. Darcy turns that megawatt smile on him and gives him a kiss on the cheek that leaves him looking a little dazed as she bounces away to do the same to Loki, standing on tiptoe to reach him. He graciously inclines his head to make it easier, and Darcy grins up at him.

"Thanks, baby," she croons, and then goes to Thor, kissing him on the mouth before she returns to Jane, who takes her hand and stands up. As usual, Jane looks shy, and goes more than a little pink as she glances over at Thor.

"We do need to be up in the morning," she says, "but please, feel free to give us a call after four pm, okay?"

Natasha smiles slowly and Thor beams brighter than Darcy. "Okay," Natasha says. "Thor, darling, why don't you chauffeur our guests?"

Of course Jane makes noises about him not having to do that, but Thor doesn't even need the help Darcy tries to give him. He would be simply _delighted_ to drive them, and hurries to put on real clothes and to find his wallet. Nick chuckles, and tips Darcy a wink when she glances over at him. It doesn't take Thor long to come back, and soon he's following Jane out, worship writ large on his face.

In the silence after they go, Loki sighs a little sadly and Clint comes up behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around that slender waist. He doesn't say anything, just buries his face in Loki's back and puts one hand over his heart. After a moment, Loki smiles, putting his hand over Clint's.

"Thank you, little bird," he murmurs, and Clint makes a soft, shy noise that makes Nick want to get up and scoop him into his arms. He doesn't, of course, his arms are already full of Steve, but Loki does, turning and gathering Clint into his arms and then up into a bridal carry. Clint blushes and Steve chuckles.

"Glad you're not the only one?" Nick murmurs, and Steve nods.

There's a general move to follow Loki and Clint upstairs, but Steve stays behind to get more of his penciling done. Bucky sets him up with some water and then comes upstairs after the group. "Remind me to check on Steve within the hour," he says to Nick as everyone arranges themselves around Natasha's huge bed, and Nick nods, settling in next to Pepper. No one needs to put a green scarf on the doorknob for Steve's benefit, since cracking the door saves just a bit on air-conditioning. Clint has had plenty of time to object to being the center of attention, but he hasn't said a word and is already half-hard and flushed all over, not just his face, hidden against Loki's shoulder until the last possible minute. 

Natasha chuckles and stretches out beside him, peeling off the boxer-briefs and t-shirt that are all he's wearing. "You really are a pretty little thing," she purrs to Clint, sliding a hand over his chest and making him whine under everyone's gaze. Nick chuckles, putting an arm around Pepper's shoulders and making a small and happy noise when she climbs into his lap and cuddles close.

Since the point of this little adventure is to make sure that Loki knows that he doesn't have to be alone when Thor's not around, Natasha holds Clint down for him as he slides those slender white fingers into him one at a time. Nick sighs, covering Pepper's neck in soft kisses as Clint pants and squirms, helpless in Natasha's grasp. As Loki slowly and delicately works him open, Clint whimpers and tosses his head, his sounds getting more and more desperate until Natasha leans forward to press her nipples into his mouth, soothing and muffling him. Nick shivers, and grips Pepper's tits through her housedress, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure for her to sigh and melt back against him. After a moment she opens the dress so Nick can touch her skin to skin, and when he glances up, he can see that Tony is watching them much more intently than the group on the bed, his eyes bright and happy.

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